It is settled definitely that I am to leave for Algiers from the 8th to the 10th of next month. I shall remain there, or, rather, I shall travel here and there until driven away by the fever or the rainy season. In any case, I shall not see you before January. You ought to have thought of that before going away. When I say that you shall not see me until next year, I mean that it will depend on you. While you have been learning Greek, I have been studying Arabic, but it seems to me a diabolical language, and I shall never succeed in knowing two words of it. Apropos of Syra, that chain which you like has been in Greece, and in many other places besides. I selected it because it is of very antique workmanship, and I fancied it would please you. Does it recall our long walks and our interminable conversations? I dined Sunday with General Narvaez, who was entertaining in honour of his wife’s birthday. There were scarcely any but Spanish women present. I saw one who is trying to starve herself for love, and is gradually and quietly passing away. This mode of death must seem to you the height of cruelty. There was another, Mademoiselle ... whom General Serrano stationed there for his Catholic Majesty; but she is far from dead, and even appears to be in excellent health. There was also Madame Gonzalez Bravo, a sister of the actor Romea, and sister-in-law of the same Majesty, who has, it is said, an immense number of sisters-in-law. This one is extremely pretty and clever. Good-bye.... XCVI PARIS, _Monday, September, 1844_. We parted the other day equally vexed the one with the other. We were both wrong, for it was simply the force of circumstances that was to blame. It would have been better not to meet for a long time. It is evident that we can not see each other without disagreeing. We both want the impossible: you, that I should be a statue; I, that you should not be one. Each new proof of the impossibility of that which in our hearts we have never doubted causes bitterness to us both. I regret all the distress I may have caused you. I am too ready to yield to my absurd quick temper. As well get into a passion because ice is cold. I hope you will forgive me now. I am no longer angry, only very sorrowful. I should not feel so bad if we had not parted as we did. Farewell, since we can be friends only at a distance. When we have grown old, perhaps we shall meet again with pleasure. Meanwhile, in happiness or in distress, do not forget me. I asked you this, I don’t know how many years ago. We hardly ever thought then of quarrelling. Again, good-bye, while I have the courage to say it. XCVII PARIS, _Thursday, September 6, 1844_.