I think one could cut a great deal from this book, and keep only a few days that give an idea of my life. And then things that have a sequel, like Girofla for example.

I feel unwell enough not to be able to go on foot and have to hail a cab; I step out onto the balcony but whom do I see? Doria in person! It is incredible! Then his brother.

We meet everywhere (grey and green dress); we visit Jouvin, Ferry, Mousset, and Duval, then go to the Champs-Elysees.

On the boulevards we met Mme Sapogenikoff with the deacon. We spoke to them and continued our errands. I have already seen nearly all my street acquaintances, Doria too. And a quantity of familiar faces; I love Paris, because one meets everyone there.

I must say that in Paris one feels well; Paris is not as large as London, which overwhelms by its immensity. And then it is brighter here and I know everything here.

In the evening at the Opera-Comique, "Le Pardon de Ploermel" — an opera completely falling apart, in pieces, and lacking naturalness at every turn.

I have nothing but praise for my aunt; she does everything I wish and serves me like a slave. I have only to say a word for everything to be done, and more — she anticipates my desires.