CCLXXXIX. TO GUSTAVE FLAUBERT
Nohant, 25th March, 1875
Don't be worried about me, my Polycarp. I have nothing serious, a
little grippe, and this right arm which hardly moves but which
electricity will cure. One thinks that it is an effort.
I am much more worried about you, although you are ten times as
strong as I am, but your morale is affected whereas mine takes what
comes, in a cowardly way, if you like, but there is perhaps a
philosophy in knowing how to be cowardly rather than angry.
Do write to me, tell me that you are going out of doors, that you
are walking, that you are better.--I have finished going over the
proofs of Flamarande. That is the most boring part of the task.
I shall send you the book when it is published. I know that you do
not like to read bit by bit.
I am a little tired; however, I want to begin something else. Since
it is not warm enough to go out, I get bored with not having
anything on the stocks. Everything is going well in the nest, except
for a few colds. Spring is so peevish this year! At last the pale
sun will become the dear Phoebus-Appolo with the shining hair, and
all will go well.
Aurore is getting so big that one is surprised to hear her laugh and
play like a child, always good, and tender, the other is always very
funny and facetious.
Tell us of yourself and always love us as we love you.