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The sequel of this narrative will, at any rate,
show that it was heard.
Extracts from my Journal
1896
May 13th.—A letter from my wife. She has
learned from the papers that a Mr. S. is about
to journey to the North Pole in an air-balloon.
She feels in despair about it, confesses to me
her unalterable love, and adjures me to give up
this idea, which is tantamount to suicide. I
enlighten her regarding her mistake. It is a
cousin of mine who is risking his life in order
to make a great scientific discovery.
May 14th.—Last night I had a dream. A head
which had been cut off was set on the trunk of
a man who looked like an actor come down in
the world through drink. The head began to
speak. I was frightened, and knocked my
bedscreen down while I, as I thought, pushed a
policeman before me to protect me from the
madman’s attack.
May 17th and the following days.—The glass
of absinthe at six o’clock, and the terrace of
the Brewery of Lilas behind the statue of Marshal
Ney, are my only remaining sin and delight.
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