That summer of 1894, separated by a thousand miles, she and Pierre corresponded regularly. “It would be a beautiful thing,” he wrote to her in August, “to pass through life together, hypnotized by our dreams: your dream for your country; our dream for humanity; our dream for science. Of all these dreams, I believe the last, alone, is legitimate.” Only in the realm of science, he explained, could they be certain of accomplishing more good than harm. “The territory here is more solid and obvious, and however small it is, it is truly in our possession.”
