There is a house on the opposite side of the road, much nearer than I
wish it were. Luckily it is rarely occupied. Still, when it is, it is
over-occupied. At the foot of the hill--perhaps five hundred yards
away--are the tiny hamlet of Joncheroy and the little village of
Voisins. Just above me is the hamlet of Huiry--half a dozen houses.
You see that is not sad. So cheer up. So far as I know the commune has
no criminal record, and I am not on the route of tramps. Remember,
please, that, in those last winters in Paris, I did not prove immune to
contagions. There is nothing for me to catch up here--unless it be the
gayety with which the air is saturated.
You ask me also how it happens that I am living again "near by Quincy?"
As true as you live, I never thought of the coincidence. If you please,
we pronounce it "Kansee." When I read your question I laughed. I
remembered that Abelard, when he was first condemned, retired to the
Hermitage of Quincy, but when I took down Larousse to look it up, what
do you think I found? Simply this and nothing more: "Quincy: Ville des
Etats-Unis (Massachusetts), 28,000 habitants.
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