Page:Cyrano de Bergerac.djvu/95

Rh …But strike me dead if I dare to speak to her,… ay, even one single word! [To ] What time is it?

A quarter after six!…

Ay—a single word of all those here! here! But writing, 'tis easier done… [He takes up the pen.] Go to, I will write it, that love-letter! Oh! I have writ it and rewrit it in my own mind so oft that it lies there ready for pen and ink; and if I lay but my soul by my letter-sheet, 'tis nought to do but to copy from it.

Here they come, your mud-bespattered friends!

Brother in art!…