Thursday, 29 July 1875

I am suffering all the annoyances that go with a departure. People hurry, lose their tempers, run about, forget things, remember them, shout.
I am completely thrown off.
And now there is talk of staying until Saturday.
That Stiopa would like to put it off from day to day. It is his character: he has no courage for anything. He was to leave Russia at the beginning of April and only left at the beginning of July. It is exasperating!
We are staying. They beg me to leave, seeing that I am vexed, but I declare that they have exasperated me with their stupid talk and that I do not want to leave and shall not leave.
As a result everyone gives way to me, and I indulge my whims. I have a headache.
We go to Villefranche. For fun I wag my finger at three priests in the middle of the Promenade, who stand there dumbfounded, and at a fourth, fat and solemn, on the bridge; and, delighted, I come home in the best humour in the world.
At dinner, half laughing, half in earnest, I pick a quarrel with my grandfather. My dear uncle Georges is here — I must endure that drunkard’s face!
After all, it is no bad thing to stay two more days. I have time.