Regards from Maurice and his wife.
I arrived last night, I am running around like a rat, but every day at 6 o’clock one is sure of finding me at Magny’s, and the first day that you are free, come to dine with your old troubadour who loves you and embraces you.
Send word ahead to me, however, so that by an exceptional chance, I do not have the ill luck to miss you.
I am back from Palaiseau and I find your letter. Saturday I am not sure of being free; I have to read my play with Chilly on account of some objections of detail, and I had told you so. But I see him tomorrow evening, and I shall try to get him to give me another day. I shall write you then, tomorrow evening, Friday, and if he frees me, I shall go to your house about three o’clock on Saturday so that we can read before and after dinner; I dine on a little fish, a chicken wing, an ice and a cup of coffee, never anything else, by which means my stomach keeps well. If I am kept by Chilly, we shall postpone till next week after Friday.
I sold Palaiseau today to a master shoemaker who has a Leather plaster on his right eye, and who calls the sumachs of the garden, the schumakre.
Then Saturday morning you shall have word from your old comrade.
No way of going out today. This slavery to one’s profession is horrid, isn’t it? Between now and Friday I shall write to you so that we can again settle on a day. I embrace you, my old beloved troubadour.
They are encroaching upon my time more and more. All my days are full until and including next Sunday.—Tell me quickly if you want me Monday, a week from today—or if it is another day. Let us fix it for it is a fact that I don’t really know whom to listen to.
Your troubadour who does not want this state of affairs to continue!
On Monday then, and if I have an hour free I shall try to embrace my troubadour before that. But don’t disturb yourself, I know very well that one does nothing here that one would like to do. Anyway, on Monday between three and four, clear out your windpipe so as to read me a part before dinner.