It is many weeks since I wrote those words which I thought were to be my last.

I read them over now, and laugh aloud.

Life is more devilishly humorous than I in my most nightmare dreams ever imagined.

Instead of dying at Mentone as I proposed, I am here, at Mustapha Superieur, still living.

And let me tell you the master joke of the Arch-Jester.
I am going to live.
I am not going to die.