No one, you understand, knows of it but you.

I need not write more to a friend as sincere as you are, and whom I embrace with all my heart." "It is unequalled!" said Dorsenne, crumpling the letter with rising anger.

"He embraces me with all his heart.

I am his most sincere friend! I am chivalrous, French, the only person he esteems! What disagreeable commission does he wish me to undertake for him?
Into what scrape is he about to ask me to enter, if he has not already got me into it?
I know that school of protestation.

We are allied for life and death, are we not?
Do me a favor! And they upset your habits, encroach upon your time, embark you in tragedies, and when you say 'No' to them-then they squarely accuse you of selfishness and of treason! It is my fault, too.
Why did I listen to his confidences?
Have I not known for years that a man who relates his love-affairs on so short an acquaintance as ours is a scoundrel and a fool?
And with such people there can be no possible connection.