October 12th, Seven O'clock A.M
October 12th , Seven O'clock A.M. . The nights are already become cold and long ; the sun , shining through my curtains , no more wakens me long before the hour for work ; and even when my eyes are open , the pleasant warmth of the bed keeps me fast under my counterpane . Every morning there begins a long argument between my activity and my indolence ; and , snugly wrapped up to the eyes , I wait like the Gascon , until they have succeeded in coming to an agreement . This morning , however , a light , which shone from my door upon my pillow , awoke me earlier than usual .