[9 or 10 August 1915]
Madame,
Since you have been so good as to ask me, you permit me to tell you very frankly. Yesterday at about 7:30 am, today at about 8, 8:15 I was a little bothered and you will understand why. Having had yesterday (at last) the visit from the Major who deferred me for a few months,35 I had promised myself to change my hours in order to be able to experience a little daylight. And to start with, not having slept for several days, I had granted myself four hours of sleep to quiet an attack. And at 10 o’clock in the morning I was supposed to get up. But at 8 o’clock, the light little knocks on the floorboards above me were so precise, that the veronal was useless and I woke, only too early for my attack to have been quieted.
[Insertion of this little phrase below “woke”] This could have started before, I was asleep, I’m not saying that the loudest was at 8:15.
I had to give up my fine plans to change my hours, (which I will perhaps resume, but that does not depend on my will but on my health), take once again (since my attack is raging) medications upon medications, too much, which has made everything worse. — . I tell you this since you ask me because I know that you understand this, the regret for a reform of myself will wait for such a long time, prevented by such little noises (to which in a few days the reform had it been successful would no doubt have made me indifferent). What bothers me is never continuous noise, even loud noise, if it is not struck, on the floorboards, (it is less often no doubt in the bedroom itself, than at the bend of the hallway). And everything that is dragged over the floor, that falls on it, runs across it. — . It has been four days now that I have wanted to send you the vegetal reply to your Roses.36 The wait for the Major prevented me from sending it. At last I will be able to. — . But I am disappointed: you had promised me you would ask me for some books, some illustrated ones, some Ruskin? It is perhaps heavy on your bed . . . How I would like to know Madame how you are. I think of you all the time. Please be so kind as to accept my respectful gratitude
Marcel Proust
[Above the word “Madame,” on the first page] What I do not express to you because I am suffering so today that I can’t write, is my emotion, my gratitude for those letters you have written me, truly admirable and touching in mind and heart.