Therese! were you Justine?... were it that you would be mysister !"
"Justine ! Madame ! 'tis a strange name." "She would have beenyour age -" "Juliette! is it you I hear?" cried the unhappyprisoner, casting herself into Madame de Lorsange's arms; "...you... my sister!... ah, I shall die far less miserable, for I havebeen able to embrace you again!..." And the two sisters, clasped ineach other's arms, were prevented by their sobs from hearing oneanother, and found expression in naught but tears.
Monsieur de Corville was unable to hold back his own; aware ofthe overpowering significance of this affair and sensing hisinvolvement in it, he moves into an adjoining room, sits down andwrites a letter to the Lord Chancellor, with fiery strokes, inardent ciphers he paints in all its horror the fa
