Last evening, after leaving the Sapogenikoffs, I spoke to the moon: *Moon, O beautiful moon, show me in my sleep him whom I shall marry in my...
I fell asleep shattered and I wake up feeling quite strange. I cannot account for what I feel. I am furious, sad, vexed.
Let clever people not believe in cards and dreams — I, who am only a simple creature, believe in them.
Worse still! I was seeing Girofla. Well — last night I saw Girofla again, but not alone; with that horror of a man, the abominable Pole!
Since six o'clock this morning, Désiré has been at the town hall. Tomorrow we shall see whether he passed. Poor little fellow — he is only eighteen...
After admiring myself I feel kindly towards everyone: I consider them unhappy enough at not being able to see me, without my grieving them over...
Just as I am getting into the carriage, Godard arrives with Chevalier — Godard, radiant, light, amiable; he does not walk, he flies towards us. Only...
I am uneasy. All these dreams — and then the cards keep telling me of a marriage in which a dark man is always alone. [?]. I should be curious to...
That Girofla was a demon of perfidy. That is no news to me; I had guessed it long before I knew him, this hero of so much gossip.
Fortunately one is free not to believe in dreams.
I said nothing about it in my journal, I do not know why. Towards the end at Spa I grew pale and weak; I could hardly walk.
Yesterday I was divinely kind: I found everyone charming, and when my Graces tried to make fun of someone I stopped them and said so many good things...
There is something I am missing, or something I have to do and have forgotten. And it torments me. I am not at peace.
I am doing it so as to have a portrait of myself with the Sapogenikoffs.
I am completely thrown off.
I drew a caricature of Smirnoff — that good-natured creature, naïve and rather stupid.
[End of page and the two following pages blank] ==What has happened?==