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As I was waiting day after day for a letter from you, our friend Lupus suddenly gave me notice to write to you if I wanted to say anything. But I, though I had nothing to say—for I knew the gazette was being sent to you, and I was also told that the chatter of a letter with nothing in it was disagreeable to you—have aimed at brevity, following your teaching. Be it known to you then that our every hope rests on you and your colleague. As to M. Brutus we have as yet nothing certain: but I never stop calling on him in my confidential correspondence to come and take his share in the war in which we are all engaged. Would to heaven he were already here! We should have less reason to fear the danger within the city, which is really serious. But what am I doing? I am not imitating your laconic style; I am already beginning a second page of paper. Victory and health to you!

18 June.

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