Wednesday, 28 July 1875

We have our photographs taken at Bienmüller’s.
I am doing it so as to have a portrait of myself with the Sapogenikoffs.
Four poses:
1. Just the three Graces.
2. The three Graces sewing; then the three Graces in medallion profile; and finally the three Graces in ringlets. Machenka stood in for Nina, since her face cannot be seen — nothing but a thick black veil.
The expedition had to be immortalised.
Never, I think, since this photographer’s studio has existed, has such an uproar been seen there. We stay there from two o’clock until half past five.
The photographer was out of breath and did nothing but run about like a madman.
Our departure above all was remarkable: we were all dishevelled, dressed in rags, and carrying in our arms the pretty outfits we had come in.
We were sitting very quietly at home in the evening when Fiouloulou, Mercury and Danis arrive. As I am leaving tomorrow, I receive them in spite of my aunt’s absence; besides, we have Nina. But they do not stay long.
That does not stop us sitting up until my aunt and Stiopa come back from Monaco. Nina was telling us about her amorous adventures.
There is talk of putting off the journey until Saturday. That annoys me; I do not like postponing. It is so disagreeable, when one expects to leave on a certain day, when one has prepared everything, when one has grown used to the idea, not to leave. And besides, I am glad to hurry, Girofla being in Paris.
I have been idle too long, we must I am torpid. It would not be a bad thing to wait until Saturday; it would make him pine — one does not pine because one loves, but simply for nothing. I am often told that something will happen on a certain day; it does not happen, and I am vexed, however indifferent it may be to me.
Let us stay in Nice until Saturday, yes — but he would pay me back for this little annoyance with interest. What is the good of making war, especially as I do not know whether I am strong enough to fight a man so cunning?
He is spiteful and capricious.