Absolutely nothing was going well. Camille was ill. Badly. Vétheuil, and Lavacourt right across the river, were far from Paris, isolated, almost deserted. Money was rare, and hope wasn't always on the menu. On top of that, this was one of the harshest winters France had seen in centuries. Cold. Windy. Stormy. Some days Monet couldn't even paint outside. The paint would freeze on the palette. He didn't wait around any longer than he had to. Ice is still floating on the river.
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