metal, or that acid! For me the thousand and one nights are renewing
themselves. And then at waking, sometimes, the blessing of a dawn. That
is the life I have led since the 13th or 14th of October. I ask for
nothing, I am content that in such a war we should have relatively a
great deal of calm.

You cannot imagine what a consolation it is to know that you give your
heart to what concerns me. What pleasure I have in imagining you
interested in my books, looking at my engravings!. . .

_November 12, 3 o'clock._

. . . To-day we have had a march as pleasant as the first one, in weather
of great beauty. We saw, in the blue and rosy distance, the far-off peak
of the Metz hills, and the immense panorama scattered over with
villages, some of which gathered up the morning light, while others were
merely suggested.

This is the broad outline of our existence: for three days we stay close
to the enemy, living in well-constructed shelters which are improved
each time; then we spend three days a little way back; and then three
days in billets in a neighbouring village, generally the same. We even
gradually form habits--very passing ones, but still, we have a certain
amount of contact with the civil population which has been so sorely
tried. The woollen things are very effectual and precious.

. . . We have good people to deal with. The dear woman from whose dwelling
I write to you, and with whom I stayed before, wears herself to death
to give us a little of what reminds us of home.