Tuesday, 27 May 1873

Only at six o'clock in Marseille — tired; I dressed quickly. After taking a few drops of bad coffee and waiting a full hour for the train, we set off again. Yesterday I read about the resignation of M. Thiers, and I dreamed of it all night — so oddly!
How, as one draws near to Nice, the greenery changes, pales — the earth is no longer black but reddish, the trees faded and covered with dust. What a difference from Switzerland. How beautiful Switzerland is, after all!
Around three o'clock, we are in Nice. Dina, Walitsky, and Markevitch met us at the station. I found my aunt in bed; she is only a little better — nearly the same. After taking my bath, I returned to everyone and the account of our journey began. Maman said that Geneva no doubt pleases me better. I said that, because there are boys. And Paul's schoolmates found me beautiful, and Aliocha courted me (I barely noticed) and Cima almost, etc. etc. etc. I forgot to say — how stupid I am —
every time I see Comte Grimau I blush — I do not know what this foolishness is! He does not please me at all. This blushing is extraordinary.
How beautiful our apartment is after the hotel. But Nice is unbearable now — I am literally burning with desire to leave. And I hope the good Lord will help me to depart for Vienna.
I found a letter from Hélène Howard; I must reply at once, or I shall forget it.
The apartment has not yet been found. In Geneva they paid me many compliments on my dress and hat. I said:
— It is splendid in its simplicity.
— Like the person who wears it, then! said Abramovitch. What a little beast he is!