Thursday, 27 March 1873

At the promenade (grey and blue dress as yesterday) — many people. I say, and for the last time, that not only does Boreel not please me, but he is ugly, with a tired face.
No, no, dear sir, it is quite finished for you — hope for nothing more! Nothing! When I returned home, the Howards — Hélène and Lise — came to visit us.
Maman went out a little.
Today I did not have lunch — it was bad; I was very angry; I [Crossed out: threw] emptied (half in jest) a plate of macaroni onto the floor. I was cross, somewhat in jest. In La Saison I read a long article about the pigeon shooting, and one of the commissioners is the Duke of Hamilton.
What happiness! Then in the evening they brought from Monaco a stereoscope with all sorts of photographs, among them the pigeon shooting at the moment when a gentleman fires. I recognized several figures, among them Merck. I cannot say how much I love all of this — horses, races, jockeys, pigeon shooting, etc. etc. I love the Duke for this, and I love all of this for the Duke. I love to see everything that concerns the Duke, etc. For if one says races, Hamilton follows; if one says Hamilton, the races follow, the pigeon shooting, and all of it.
But if one removed the Duke, the pigeon shooting would lose nearly everything in my eyes, whereas if one removed all of that from the Duke, he would remain the same for me — from which one may conclude that I love these amusements because they are bound up with him, and for that reason they are dear to me and will remain as a memory of him. Oh! my God, let me be at the pigeon shooting, and let the Duke of Hamilton make our acquaintance.
[In the margin: How Mademoiselle de Galve pleases me. I like her very much and I should like to know her — and also for the reason I gave on page 82.]

Notes

In English in the original.