There is very little to tell from the last few days. My most recent letters have gone unanswered, except, of course, for Thierry’s. Missing him terribly, I wrote a particularly poignant one yesterday. I expect the arrival of my chemises from Paris in a few days, and if the weather would determine to remain fine for a whole day I might be able to do some painting, but otherwise rien a dit!
Yesterday Adrienne said to me that it was too bad I was so determined to go to Versailles for the season, as she would be glad of my company for a while yet. The very idea of remaining here instead of returning to Saint Saturnin or attending to business in Paris is unpleasant, to say the least. We did see an opera tonight, but it was a very small company and not well-executed. I look forward to some truly enchanting theatre once I reach Paris.