Vol. 1, 15a. To Marie Winteler[1] [Aarau,] Tuesday [14 January? 1896][2] My dear little Marie, Oh, it has become so bleak over here, so bleak, since you ran out on us [3] and in my brain even much, much bleaker and duller. My child also appears to be nearly dead & no longer wants to escape with me from the fumes of ordinary life.[4] It’s almost as if you had taken its soul, which you had given it before, away with you. And yet the thought of you must now take the place of what your dear self had in- spired in such a profuse way—but, praise & thanks be to God, only until next Sat- urday! Your dear little card has been received in triumph. It has that very dearest cheer- ful tone of the first feeling of independence and of free creation. I would envy you now if I could envy you at all. The hardest part already lies behind you now, & you have surely befriended your herd of schoolchildren. Oh, if only I could just once in a while receive some of those dear, cross looks you are abundantly casting at those little rascals! Robert[5] surreptitiously wrote you this morning already & didn’t say a thing to me about it. Isn’t that hilarious?[6] Well, you do know that for some people (such as the two of us, for example) there is a long road from heart to pen! I’m terribly curious about your forthcoming letters. Please address them only to the “W. family,” along with their hangers-on. You have so much to do, poor child. Many, many warm wishes & much joy for your dear little heart from your (you already know that) Albert Vol. 1, 16b. To Marie Winteler Monday night [Aarau, 3 February 1896][1] Dearest Sweetheart, I have to chat to you just a bit again, even though I’m dead tired. I couldn’t pos- sibly sleep without saying good night to you, my love. When I think of you now, you have already closed your blissful, gentle eyes & your soft little angelical face is so bright and happy, as on that blissful evening upstairs on the sofa.[2] Sleep sweetly, little child & be happy! Oh, Orion is sparkling beautifully today as never before (I think so every day). Tomorrow, sweetheart, I shall buy you a sausage so the doughnut project gets a chance.[3] Please write me a brief letter that I can let Robert[4] read, otherwise he’s 2017-12-14 CPAEv15tr_3-1_crc 37/590
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