# Tuesday, 20 February 1877

Tuesday, 20 February 1877

Phew!
I wanted to add nothing to that exclamation — but Merisano and the officer remained leaning against the railing opposite our windows for more than two hours, and I must mention it. He looked too comical for words.
Wretched, downcast, dead as I was, I began to laugh. The officer seemed to be admonishing him, and the little monkey kept jumping up and returning again and again to the same spot.
Today I feel ashamed of everything — of Spa, of Rome, of Naples. I imagine such things that it is enough to drive one mad. Maman’s illness only adds to these terrors and these mysterious shames... one energetic, encouraging word would restore my spirits, but there is no one to say it to me.
My voice lost, my piano abandoned, my painting stopped — my whole life as if imprisoned in a corset like Dina’s, which cuts off the circulation and is worse than dying!
One more month, and this year must be struck out of my life.
Let us not weep too much, since we can leave at any moment. But I am waiting... like; yes — but that is no reason to accept such a life calmly!!
Ah! there, once again! You will never be able to imagine it!