Monday, April 10, 2006


The invitations are dispatched but I am low in spirits. The fortepiano gleams like a Venetian mirror and there is not a speck of dust in the house. For the concert, I am to wear a green silk dress with lace fissure at a cost of sixty ducats. My stepdaughter, Marianna is to turn the pages as I play – that is, IF I play. Our singing cook has been taken severely ill and there are less than ten days in which to find another Prima Donna in the kitchen, not to mention the salon. N.


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