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SINCE you do not approve of a standing plea of ill-health, please see that my excuse is made each day to Appuleius. 1 In this lonely place I have no one with whom to converse, and plunging into a dense and wild wood early in the day I don't leave it till evening. Next to you, I have no greater friend than solitude. In it my one and only conversation is with books. Even that is interrupted by tears, which I fight against as long as I can. But as yet I am not equal to it. I will answer Brutus, as you advise. You will get the letter tomorrow. Whenever you have anyone to take it, write me a letter.

1 See p.199.

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