thus you would shorten your journey by fifteen days … My happiness is to see you happy; my joy, to see you gay; my pleasure, to see you pleased. There was never a woman loved with more devotion, passion or tenderness. Never again can I be the complete master of my heart, dictating thereto all its tastes, its inclinations, forming all its desires … No letter from you; I only get one every four days; instead of which, if you loved me, you would write to me twice a day … Adieu, Josephine, you are to me a monster I can’t make out … I love you more every day. Absence cures the small passions; it
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