Monday, 18 January 1875

At last Caroline has fitted me. She was even agreeable. The thing is, Caroline is a power — she has no need of me, and I have need of her. That is why she is a power.

I have ordered a white coat — an evening wrap.

Fifty thousand francs paid over ten years is reasonable and possible — but fifty thousand francs at once is madness. And Duval avoids any discussion, hides himself away, and always answers in an equivocal manner. There is something fishy in all this.

Several times my aunt had asked him how he expected to be paid, and he always replied that it would be as she wished. He says he did say so — but “I never thought it could mean a term of several [years?].” Yet it was only with that term in view¹ that the order was placed, and never — never on any account — would one have done so, thinking one would have to pay at once.

Schmit offered ten years — I think that in offering Duval five years one is being reasonable, especially if one pays the interest.

It cannot be that he is a swindler — no doubt there is something in it that we do not know.

Ah! how much might be done with that money. One could have built — and building is greatly needed.

All these affairs make my head spin — and to crown the pleasure, enormous difficulties in obtaining a box at the new Opera.²

I stay at home this evening — tomorrow I go to Waléry’s.