This miracle of her persistent affection seemed to me the simplest and most natural reality. Since the milk of human kindness was not an empty saying! And then one might have mistrusted another, but she, like myself, had deliberately raised herself above the common sphere in which men's feelings move. How little the scruples and hesitations of average souls could count for in comparison with the mute vow which bound us. We belonged to each other, whatever might happen! But, nevertheless, when the first transport was over, a vague feeling of unrest returned to skim the surface of my mind. I was insatiable. It seemed to me that I might have looked for a more tender and impassioned abandonment--for some involuntary avowal.... And then, no! On thinking it over, I had no difficulty in convincing myself that it was her modesty which forbade her to declare herself. I myself had never dared to put it into writing. No; our engagement would be ratified by a hand-clasp, by the chaste exchange of words. I wrote her eight pages that same evening. Our correspondence was resumed. Each of us now, certainly waited for the other's letter to arrive before answering it--and the posts were still uncertain, a week sometimes went by without bringing the looked-for letter. I was not without regret for the time when our love had found a way to express itself, every, or almost every day. We had ceased to move amongst those unique circumstances when not an hour must be lost in pouring out all one's heart, since each letter, received or despatched, might be the last. This was the return to normal conditions; letters between the betrothed before the ring has been given. It was at least something on which to feed the certainty of our happiness. * * * * * Time went on and on. At the end of a fortnight they had given my leg a thorough dressing for the first time. The compresses, with the aid of hot water, had come off more quickly, and given me less pain than I had feared they might. Bujard congratulated me on the condition of my wound. There was no trace of suppuration. Three weeks more and I should get up! I smiled at his words of encouragement. I marvelled at feeling nothing at the severed stump but a sort of tickling which was sometimes, by the way, almost intolerable. The feeling that my right thigh had nothing to counter-balance it was very queer too. The occupants of our ward had nearly all recovered. Some more beds were added. They tried to make more room, and sent away a great many of those who could stand up. Cadieu was despatched to a convalescent home. He went hobbling off, much amused by his crutches. And merriment went with him.