Wednesday, 27 May 1874

I have decidedly found my depths. But as always, it is only the first step that costs. Having found my depths, I immediately saw that I had two, then three: in one I found the Duke of Hamilton, in another five hundred thousand francs a year, etc., etc., and in the third my mother and all those I love. This last cannot be compared to the others -- not to say that it is more or less, but it is something else; let us leave it. I do not consider it a depth, so to speak. But the other two are my true depths; I have found them, at last!
Maman stays in bed until five. In the meantime I busy myself remaking in my own way the bodice of the grey dress; from five to seven at Laferrière’s. The great Madame Caroline is amiable, and I breathe. This she-devil must be good at heart. But how she treats her shop girls -- ai, ai, ai! While we were there, Gioia and Soubise came out of another salon, probably reserved for those ladies. I saw this fairy of fashion, this heroine of the Montebello-Metternich duel; she struck me as very ugly. Then Mme Rosalie Léon was announced; we did not see her -- she was no doubt in the other salon. My waist measurement: fifty-five centimetres. Dina will burst her corsets.
In the evening I talk with Maman, without quarrelling, about what torments me. Maman wanted to prove to me the magnificence of a marriage with Miloradovitch. “No, no, that is not it.” (Angot)!

Notes

Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
Angot: Lecocq’s opéra-comique La Fille de Madame Angot (Brussels 1872, Paris, Folies-Dramatiques, February 1873), the great hit of the day. Marie seems to tag her refusal as a line from it, though the words have not been traced in the libretto. ↩