Monday, 9 August 1875

My aunt sends me five hundred francs by money order; I have no papers on me to prove my identity, and tomorrow I shall have to go to the police commissary¹ with the proprietress of the hotel. What a wretched business! This commissary will give a certificate and I shall go and collect my money. This whole post-office affair makes us late for the Bois, but it takes me through old Paris — the Rue de la Jussienne, the Rue Coq-Héron, etc., etc. I see them again like old acquaintances; it is in these streets that the events of Dumas’s novels take place — the good novels.

We go to the Bois when most people are coming back from it. And no Audiffret, Machenka says to me.

It is true, one no longer sees him; no doubt he has left.

I do not know why this journey to Germany displeases me so. I would rather go back to Nice.

Neither pleasure nor profit! Ah, if only I did not have to go. I can stay away, but it would upset everyone’s plans.

And then my mother is expecting to see me. The pleasure of being near her consoles me a little.

I hate doing things without a purpose. To set my mind at rest I tell myself that the purpose of this journey is to please my mother.

Girofla has gone — so now I am at peace. I was very vexed by his indifference.

I think, however, that he could not come: I am alone here, and he does not know Stiopa and his wife.

See what a coward I am! I want to excuse him; I want to delude myself with a false idea!

I read my old journal and find: Audiffret seems to me an excellent fellow. I never used to notice him, but since his wagers and la Gioia I do notice him. I would like to know him; I like him very much.

I also find how much I used to think about Lambertye, that old monkey. My journal seems dull to me; I would like to skip quickly past Wittgenstein and Lambertye and get to Terffidua². The noise of the carriages grates on my nerves!

Ferry has just sent me shoes so exquisite that it is astonishing.