* * * * *

If I could but make up my mind to burn that letter! I weigh it, first in
my right hand, then in my left. Sometimes its weight makes me happy;
sometimes it fills me with foreboding. Do the words weigh so heavy, or
only the paper?

Last night I held it close to the candle. But when the flame touched my
letter, I drew it quickly away.--It is all I have left to me now....

* * * * *

Richard writes to me that Malthe has been commissioned to build a great
hospital. Most of our great architects competed for the work. He goes on
to ask whether I am not proud of "my young friend."

My young friend!...

* * * * *

Jeanne spoke to me about herself to-day. I think she was quite
bewildered by the extraordinary fall of leaves which has almost blinded
us the last three days. She was doing my hair, and tracing a line
straight across my forehead, she remarked:

"Here should be a ribbon with red jewels."

I told her that I had once had the same idea, but I had given it up out
of consideration for my fellow creatures.