Thus, after having so long deceived me, this man threw aside his
mask; convinced that, in the state to which he had brought things,
he no longer flood in need of it. Relieved from the fear of being
unjust towards the wretch, I left him to his reflections, and
thought no more of him. A week afterwards I received an answer from
Madam d'Epinay, dated from Geneva. I understood from the manner of her
letter, in which, for the first time in her life, she put on airs of
state with me, that both depending but little upon the success of
their measures, and considering me as a man inevitably lost, their
intentions were to give themselves the pleasure of completing my
destruction.
In fact, my situation was deplorable. I perceived all my friends
withdrew themselves from me without knowing how or for why. Diderot,
who boasted of, the continuation of his attachment, and who, for three
months past, had promised me a visit, did not come. The winter began
to make its appearance, and brought with it my habitual disorders.
My constitution, although vigorous, had been unequal to the combat
of so many opposite passions. I was so exhausted that I had neither
strength nor courage sufficient to resist the most trifling
indisposition. Had my engagements, and the continued remonstrances
of Diderot and Madam d'Houdetot then permitted me to quit the
Hermitage, I knew not where to go, nor in what manner. to drag
myself along. I remained stupid and immovable. The idea alone of a
step to take, a letter to write, or a word to say, made me tremble.
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