What a joy it will be to see that good old man again, and all my nearest and dearest! What tears! What consolation!
They won’t let me tire myself, so I shan’t write a long letter – and anyway, I wouldn’t have the strength. If you only saw how wasted away your poor Maria is!
They tell me to keep calm, but they can’t prevent my mind from racing away, and thinking of all those things make me cry with joy … of the day when I’ll go down to the parlour and see you all … and my poor heart is filled with gladness.
But then you’ll go away and leave me again – here, alone!