ing and dry eyes, there was still a certain resolute expression, a heart-pumping strength that supported her to keep going.

Silent for a moment after the speech ended, Charlene slowly turned her wheelchair away, leaving her back to Edith. As she spoke again, her voice had returned to its usual low and sorrowful tone. It didn''t sound like she was talking to Edith, but rather unconsciously murmuring the emotions in her heart to herself.

"But during those long years when I was trapped all alone in that empty castle, who was there to keep me company but Helene? When I was tormented by illness and pain, wasn''t it she who held my hand by my bedside, reading to me, singing for me? And don''t I know full well that if her husband is found guilty, she will be in grave danger as well? When she said she couldn''t go on living if her husband died, didn''t I also think of my Raphael?"

Edith watched her friend''s back, her lips moving but no words escaping.

"You might not know this, but Raphael is the most terrified of the guillotine,"Charlene paused for a moment before her voice carried a hint of studied lightness, "He must have never told you! He has never told me either. But I saw it. When he watched that child being executed, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his whole body was shivering! I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt that Raphael was also standing on the guillotine, surrounded by the crowds. I wanted to save him, but I couldn''t even stand up! And everyone below was cheering, even the children were shouting: ''Down with Saint-Clemo