CCXXVIII. TO GEORGE SAND
1872
The hours that I could give you, dear Master! Why, all the hours,
now, by and by, and forever.
I am planning to go to Paris at the end of next week, the 14th or
the 16th. Shall you be there still? If not, I shall go earlier.
But I should like it much better if you came here. We should be
quieter, without callers or intruders! More than ever, I should like
to have you now in my poor Croisset.
It seems to me that we have enough to talk about without stopping
for twenty-four hours. Then I would read you Saint-Antoine, which
lacks only about fifteen pages of being finished. However, don't
come if your cough continues. I should be afraid that the dampness
would hurt you.
The mayor of Vendome has asked me "to honor with my presence" the
dedication of the statue of Ronsard, which occurs the 23rd of this
month: I shall go. And I should even like to deliver an address
there which would be a protest against the universal modern flap-
doodle. The occasion is good. But for the production of a really
appropriate little gem, I lack the snap and vivacity.
Hoping to see you soon, dear master, your old troubadour who
embraces you.
CCXXIX. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
7 June, 1872
Dear friend,
Your old troubadour has such a bad cough that a little bit more
would be the last straw. On the other hand, they cannot get on
without me at our house, and I cannot stay longer than next week,
that is to say, the 15th or the 16th. If you could come next
Thursday, the 13th, I should reserve the 13th, the 14th, even the
15th, to be with you at my house for the day for dinner, for the
evening, in short, just as if we were in the country, where we could
read and converse. I would be supposed to have gone away.
A word at once, I embrace you as I love you.