Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Thursday, 28 August 1873

At Marseille they wake me. I go first of all to clean myself up — I am less dirty than I thought. So early I cannot eat; only a cup of tea. I take up my reading again; I return to the word "Hamilton." I have never encountered a finer name. I take the opportunity to tell my aunt once more that Napoleon is not a relation, since his mother is Princess of Baden. Then we spoke of the kinship between the Russians and the English:
"Through the Hamiltons too," says Dina.
At Toulon we dine, and very well; truly, if it had been at twelve or one o'clock instead of ten, I should have eaten perfectly. Since Toulon I am in the grip of a great sadness — I am approaching Nice. All places are equal to me except Paris, which I adore, and Nice, which I abhor. There is not even the means of studying. And such heat!