(letterhead « Au Foyer", dated 21-11-1957, sent to 5 rue de la lingerie)
Finally it is 7:30 and I can write to you. I have seen so many people and have had so much work today, and this morning from the second phone call on a bunch of customers were coming in.
Yes, I was tensed and ill at ease, put yourself in my shoes and instead of complaining about it, congratulate you for it : jealousy, worry, emotional ebb and the instability that I felt only could and only can be charged to love, and indifference is, I think, much more serious than the inconveniences of an excessively exclusive and absolute affection.
At first I suffered from a kind of vague malaise at the reception of 1 or 2 letters before posted before departure and the letters from Germany lacked contact I almost had the impression of hasty and unthinking words.
Then a little jealousy ridiculous but not avoidable.
Then after this long silence, Monday I waited then Tuesday then Wednesday and this morning when the postman arrived I was in the darkest despair dancing on one foot and on the other.
This impression and this instability have prevented me from painting for a week.
I saw all the films from Nice and I resumed playing chess and I finished off all the players of a club of the street in front of the coaches.
Today I am sending René two paintings unfortunately I think they will arrive after you at the gallery and you will not see them. The name of the revolver for Claude : Smith and Wesson. Give him 6000 you never know. I compressed Senior the strongest.
Armand who loves you too much, scratched.