a, and you'll do me the favor of sending it as your business. Only she can procure any comfort. Talk about it, it no longer count on him more. I'm very unhappy! Perhaps have the kindness to take charge of a letter to Danceny. I dare not confide to that of Josephine, much less my girl, because maybe this will be to be told my mother that I had letters in my trash.
I do not miss me time to write to Madame de Merteuil, and also Danceny, and do not write longer, then I'll go to bed, to find me lying when they enter my room. I will say I'm bad, not having to go to my mother. I will not lie a lot, because I suffer more, certainly, that if he had a fever. My eyes are burning
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