Happy New Year;" this feast does not accord with our present sorrow.
I have even forgotten to wish your mother a happy birthday. I pray you to repair this forgetfulness; it is excusable under the sad circumstances.
I suppose you have given the children the toys from their father. We must not let these young souls suffer through our sorrows.
I have received the inkstand. I thank you for it.
5 o'clock in the evening.
The appeal is rejected, as I might have expected it would be. They have just told me. Ask immediately for permission to see me.
Send me what I asked you for; that is to say, my sabre, my belt, and the valise with my belongings. The cruel and horrible anguish is approaching; I am going to meet it with the dignity of a pure and tranquil conscience. To tell you that I do not suffer would be to lie; but I shall not weaken. I shall be strong. Keep on, for your part, without truce, without rest.
1 January, 1895.
My Darling:
It is no longer Sunday. It is the beginning of Monday. The stroke of midnight has just sounded at this moment, as I lighted my candle. I cannot sleep. I would rather rise than toss upon my bed, and what more delicious occupation than to talk with you! When I
