The marquis, who was incapable of understanding this resolve of firm minds, which often assumes quite diverse aspects (for in such moments of tension certain superior minds give way to surprising gaiety), began to fear that he might never bring Laurence alive to the momentous interview, solemn to them only, and yet beyond the ordinary limits of private life.

To Laurence, the necessity of humiliating herself before that man, the object of her hatred and contempt, meant the sacrifice of all her noblest feelings.
"After this," she said, "the Laurence who survives will bear no likeness to her who is now to perish." The travellers could not fail to be aware of the vast movement of men and material which surrounded them the moment they entered Prussia.

The campaign of Jena had just begun.

Laurence and the marquis beheld the magnificent divisions of the French army deploying and parading as if at the Tuileries.

In this display of military power, which can be adequately described only with the words and images of the Bible, the proportions of the Man whose spirit moved these masses grew gigantic to Laurence's imagination.