He closed his eyes as he leant against the sweet support which she afforded him, but not in sleep; he was thinking over all it might be most necessary for him to say to her, before the power of speech had left him, and taking counsel with himself as to the advice which he would give her.
"Victorine," he said, and then paused a moment for a reply, but, as she did not answer him, he went on.

"Victorine, I want you to be all yourself now, while I speak to you.

Can you listen to me calmly, love, while I speak to you seriously ?" She said that she would, but the tone in which she said it, hardly gave confirmation to her promise.
"I hardly know what account you have yet heard of that unfortunate battle." "Oh! I have heard that it was most unfortunate: unfortunate to all, but most unfortunate to us." "It was unfortunate.

I hope those who spoke to you of it, deceived you with no false hopes, for that would have been mere cruelty.

Give me your hand, my love; I hope they told you the truth.