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For all the fortune that is left to us is in meadowland, and in order to divide it, we have to sell it all. Whatever happens, I shall keep my apartments at Croisset. That will be my refuge, and perhaps even my only habitation. Paris hardly attracts me any longer. In a little while I shall have no more friends there. Do you know that my poor Theo is very ill? He is dying from boredom and misery.
Jean no longer made answer to his occasional questions. Doggedly he swung on ahead to the right and a little behind the team leader, and Howland could see that for some reason Croisset was as anxious as himself to make the best time possible. His own impatience increased as the morning lengthened.
I am thinking of going to Paris next month, shall you be there? G. Sand CCXCI. TO GEORGE SAND Croisset, 10th May, 1875 A wandering gout, pains that go all over me, an invincible melancholy, the feeling of "universal uselessness" and grave doubts about the book that I am writing, that is what is the matter with me, dear and valiant master.
In an instant there recurred to him all that Croisset had said, and there almost came from his lips the half-breed's words, which had burned themselves in his memory, "Perhaps you will understand when I tell you this warning is sent to you by the little Meleese." What had Croisset meant? "Meleese," he repeated, looking strangely into the girl's face. "Yes Meleese "
In a flash Howland stepped a little to one side and shot out a crashing blow that caught Jean on the side of the head and sent him flat on his back. Half-stunned Croisset came to his feet. It was the first time that he had ever come into contact with science. He was puzzled. His head rang, and for a few moments he was dizzy.
Meleese came to me to Jean Croisset and instead of planning your murder, M'seur, she schemed to save your life with me who would have cut you into bits no larger than my finger and fed you to the carrion ravens, who would have choked the life out of you until your eyes bulged in death, as I choked that one up on the Great Slave! Do you understand, M'seur?
"I would not profit by killing you just now," mused Howland, seating himself again on the box and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked across at the other. "But that's a pretty good intimation that I'm desperate and mean business, Croisset. We won't quarrel about the things I've asked you. What I'm here for is to see Meleese. Now how is that to happen?"
"I'd cut off my head!" exploded Philip. "Do you remember that it was only a few hours ago that I said she could never be yours in this world?" Croisset reminded him, in the same quiet voice. "And now, when even I say there is hope, can you not make me have the confidence in you that I must have if we win?" Philip's face relaxed. In silence he gripped Jean's hand.
Howland's striking muscles began to ache and his breath was growing shorter with the exertions which seemed to have no effect on Croisset.
The mother is very well, what luck! But what a sight! It was something to see. I am very tired, but very content and tell you so because you love me. G. Sand Thursday evening. I leave Tuesday for Nohant. LXXXIV. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT, at Croisset Nohant, 21 June, 1868
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