On the same day I received the following letter from my adorable nun “I write to you from my bed, dearest browny, because I cannot remain standing on my feet.  I am almost dead.  But I am not anxious about it; a little rest will make me all right, for I eat well and sleep soundly.  You have made me very happy by writing to me that your bleeding has not had any evil consequences, and I give you fair notice that I shall have the proof of it on Twelfth Night, at least if you like; that is understood, and you will let me know.  In case you should feel disposed to grant me that favour, my darling, I wish to go to the opera.  At all events, recollect that I positively forbid the whites of eggs for the future, for I would rather have a little less enjoyment and more security respecting your health.  In future, when you go to the casino of Muran, please to enquire whether there is anybody there, and if you receive an affirmative answer, go away.  My friend will do the same.  In that manner you will not run the risk of meeting one another, but you need not observe these precautions for long, if you wish, for my friend is extremely fond of you, and has a great desire to make your acquaintance.  He has told me that, if he had not seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed that a man could run the race that you ran so splendidly the other night, but he says that, by making love in that manner, you bid defiance to death, for he is certain that the blood you lost comes from the brain.  But what will he say when he hears that you only laugh at the occurrence?  I am going to make you very merry:  he wants to eat the salad of whites of eggs, and he wants me to ask you for some of your vinegar, because there is none in Venice.  He said that he spent a delightful night, in spite of his fear of the evil consequences of our amorous sport, and he has found my own efforts superior to the usual weakness of my sex.  That may be the case, dearest browny, but I am delighted to have done such wonders, and to have made such trial of my strength.  Without you, darling of my heart, I should have lived without knowing myself, and I wonder whether it is possible for nature to create a woman who could remain insensible in your arms, or rather one who would not receive new life by your side.  It is more than love that I feel for you, it is idolatry; and my mouth, longing to meet yours, sends forth thousands of kisses which are wasted in the air.  I am panting for your divine portrait, so as to quench by a sweet illusion the fire which devours my amorous lips.  I trust my likeness will prove equally dear to you, for it seems to me that nature has created us for one another, and I curse the fatal instant in which I raised an invincible barrier between us.  You will find enclosed the key of my bureau.  Open it, and take a parcel on which you will see written, ‘For my darling.’  It is a small present which my friend wishes me to offer you in exchange for the beautiful night-cap that you gave me.  Adieu.”