Lucien is a student rather than a man of the world, but he has strong opinions about politics.' I was at my wit's ends what to do, whether to be silent, or to tell her of the terrible position in which her lover was placed; but, even as I hesitated, she, with the quick intuition of a woman, read the doubts which were in my mind.
'You know something of him,' she cried.

'I understood that he had gone to Paris.

For God's sake tell me what you know about him!' 'His name is Lesage ?' 'Yes, yes.

Lucien Lesage.' 'I have--I have seen him,' I stammered.
'You have seen him! And you only arrived in France last night.
Where did you see him?
What has happened to him ?' She gripped me by the wrist in her anxiety.
It was cruel to tell her, and yet it seemed more cruel still to keep silent.

I looked round in my bewilderment, and there was my uncle himself coming along over the close-cropped green lawn.