, he mustered the courage to confide his feelings to Edith once more.
"Once again, you have given me a new lease on life," he gratefully said to her.
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Edith had not spoken to Andre for over half a month.
She kept him at bay, so he could only bury himself in busy work, sometimes even sleeping at the committee office to avoid returning to the Percys'' house.
As Raphael burned with an incandescence with each passing day, Andre sunk deeper into a spiral of depression.
As for Edith, although surrounded by the hope and glee she created in the Saint-Clemonts, did not feel a sense of peace in her heart.
Whenever she looked at Raphael''s face, so similar to that of her beloved, she would recall the enchanted time of their passionate love, leaving a hollow feeling inside her.
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One day, as Edith wandered alone on the street, lost in thought, a timid voice came from behind her.
"Are you Citizeness Edith Travis?"
She turned around to see a ragged little boy of eight or nine years old, with disheveled hair and a dirty face, obviously a homeless waif.
"It''s me," she replied.
The child handed her a crumpled envelope. "Would you go and see Madame Roland? This is a letter from Citizen Buzot to be delivered to her."