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Vienna, Saturday
October 6, 1883
My dearest treasure
Now you are going to laugh at me: for the first time in ages I don't know what to write to you. I am so engrossed in the reading of papers, medical papers of course, and the trying out of methods, that I felt inclined to begin this letter: “Today's mail due from Wandsbek has not arrived.” And besides, I love you so immensely since receiving your last letter that I cannot think of anything to say but: it is a shame that I am sitting here alone and that you are not with me.
Today was a quiet working day; I had to skip the morning rounds because I was at the Journal1 till 9 o'clock. Then I feverishly tried out some new methods till I had discarded my last idea; now I have one left for tomorrow which I shall certainly dispose of, too. Tomorrow is Sunday; fortunately I will be on duty;2 what else can one do on a Sunday when the only person in whose presence one would like to rest is inaccessible? Patience. If I remain as fit and healthy as I am at the moment, something good must come my way. But you are quite, quite right, never again will I interrupt work in your absence.
And you, what are you doing, what do you look like, how, what, I want to know everything about you, and best of all I would like to hear everything all over again every day. My den is getting quite cozy. It's a pity I cannot name a spot where you have sat. But even if there were such a place, it would be covered with periodicals. I am reading my way into medicine. My first contri-