You are a witch, indeed, to have foreseen the result as you did. My
Homer deceived me, or, it may be, it was to M. Vatout that his
threatening prediction was directed.
Good-bye, dearest friend! Between my proof-reading, my reports to make
out, and, in a measure also, the worry that I have endured for three
days, I have scarcely found time to sleep. I am going to try now. I have
some amusing incidents to tell you of men and things.