Felicite observed, however, that he was very agitated when he came out again.
She fluttered round the secretaire all day.

When night came, she could restrain her impatience no longer.

Her husband had scarcely fallen asleep, when she quietly got up, took the key of the secretaire from the waistcoat pocket, and gained possession of the letter with as little noise as possible.

Eugene, in ten lines, warned his father that the crisis was at hand, and advised him to acquaint his mother with the situation of affairs.

The hour for informing her had arrived; he might stand in need of her advice.
Felicite awaited, on the morrow, a disclosure which did not come.