Juliette DROUET (1806-1883). L.A.S. "J.", December 21 [1849], to Victor Hugo; 4 pages in-12. Charming love letter to Victor Hugo. "I have just found a small piece of paper, my love, and I hasten to appropriate it to my needs. Hello, my love, hello my dear beloved, hello how are you? You didn't come back to see me last night but I don't dare blame you because of your cold". She hopes that he has been able to find a pharmacist, and she resigns herself to conjecture, and to making herself "brave with discouragement, caussidiously speaking. Besides, this kind of atrophy of love paralyzes in me the little brain I had, so much so that I am as stupid as three pots. When I start to write to you, it seems to me that I will never have enough paper to tell you all that I have in my heart and from the first words I don't know where I stand, absolutely like when one starts to eat after a too long forced fast. It seems as if you are going to devour everything and from the first mouthfuls you can't swallow any more. I have been fasting from love and happiness for so long that I can't let a single tender moment pass between my lips. It's sad and silly but that's how it is. The stomach and the heart are too close to each other for the same ailments not to have the same symptoms. I want to smile at you and kiss you and tears come to my eyes. However I love you, my toto [...] even more than before"...