only that the investigations may be absolutely thorough.
In spite of a combination of sufferings, physical as well as mental, which are at times terrible, I feel that my duty to you, to our dear children, is to resist to the limit of my strength and to protest my innocence with my last breath.
But if there is such a thing as justice in this world, it seems impossible to me, my reason refuses to believe, that we shall not recover the happiness which ought never to have been torn from us.
Truly, under the influence of extreme nervous excitement, or of a great physical depression, at times I write you feverish, excited letters; but who would not yield sometimes to such attacks of mental aberration, such revolts of the heart and soul, in a situation as tragic, as narrowing as ours? And if I urge you to hasten, it is because I long to be with you on that day of triumph when my innocence shall be recognized; and then when I am always alone, in solitude, given over to my sad thoughts, without news for more than two months of you, of the children, of all those who are dear to me, to whom should I confide the sufferings of my heart if not to you, the confidant of all my thoughts?
I suffer not for myself only, but yet more deeply for you, for our dear children. It is from them, my darling, that you must draw the moral strength, the superhuman energy which you need to succeed in making our honor appear again to every one, no matter at what price, what it has always been, pure and spotless.
But I know you. I know the greatness of your soul. I have confidence in you.
I am still without letters from you; as for me, this is the fifth letter that I have written. Kiss every one for