stupid wish to hurt _his_ feelings? _His_ only gift.... I feel ashamed
of myself.

Jeanne has arranged flowers everywhere, and that helps to make the house
more homelike.

The place is mine, and I take possession of it. Now the sun is shining.
I find pleasure in examining each article of furniture and remembering
the days when we discussed the designs together. I ought not to have let
him do all that. It was senseless of me.

* * * * *

They are much to be envied who can pass away the time in their own
society. I am in my element when I can watch other people blowing
soap-bubbles; but to blow them myself....

I am not really clever at creating comfortable surroundings. Far from
it. My white villa always looks uninhabited, in spite of all the flowers
with which I allow Jeanne to decorate the rooms. Is it because
everything smells so new? Or because there are no old smells? Here there
are no whiffs of dust, smoke, or benzine, nor anything which made the
Old Market Place the Old Market Place. Everything is so clean here that
one hesitates to move a step. The boards are as shiny as though they
were polished silver.... This very moment Torp appeared in felt shoes
and implored me to get her a strip of oilcloth to save her kitchen
floor. I feel just the same; I scarcely dare defile this spotless
pitchpine.

* * * * *