Chapter CCCXVII: PARIS, Sunday, May 2, 1869

DEAR FRIEND: I have been in Paris several days, but I was so exhausted from the journey, and so ill, that I had not the courage to write to you. Come to see me, and console me. Good-bye.

CCCXVIII

PARIS, _May 4, 1869_.

I am distressed that you did not wait two minutes. You did not allow them to tell me, and contented yourself by returning my book, and this you call a visit to a sick man! Your charity was easily satisfied. But it does not count; besides, I am a little better, and need you to go to the Exposition with me, where I have no desire to see daubs and nudities.

You shall be my guide. Do you remember the time when I was yours? Tell me what day will suit you. Good-bye, dear friend.