Saturday, 14 August 1875

When I think that one lives only once, it grieves me to waste my time in this accursed land of sausages!
The others go off to the concert, and I stay at home and hear it wailing piteously.
I have been nowhere except the baths, which are just opposite. There is nobody here. It would have been better to stay in Nice with Mercury & Co.
I am uneasy about Girofla and the Robenson woman, when I think of it.
A black felt hat of a ravishing shape and a gown of blue cloth so dark it is almost black, perfectly plain, drawn close over the hips and with a train; but the train is looped up and brought round to the side like a riding habit, and shows the white petticoat, which does trail. Yellow leather shoes with buckles, ecru stockings. A fresh face, a royal bearing, a graceful step.
Dina cries out on seeing me come downstairs: “I don’t recognise you! You look like an old painting!”
What a difference dress makes! Quite rightly delighted with myself, I ask Dina to take me round the town. It is not a town at all, more like the park of a château.
The place is ravishing, and at every step one sees paths climbing away into the greenery, balconies with balustrades, little rustic bridges, mountains, plains. Charming, truly. But no one leans on those balustrades, the walks are deserted, the poetic, picturesque staircases empty.
I complain aloud while admiring all these lovely things.
You see, my dear, for instance, I say that I’m bored, that there’s nobody here; someone comes up behind me, I turn round, and it’s a person who thinks exactly what I have just said; we start talking, and there you are!
Well then! she cries, turn round, quick!
I turn round and I see... a pig, white and pink, being led along on a leash.
At seven o’clock we go down to the dairy. It is charming; one goes up and down along adorable paths.
The whole of Schlangenbad is one delightful garden: no streets, no squares, only neat, simple little houses here and there.
I barely speak German, so I invent a new language by adding irt to every French word; everyone laughs and talks the way I do. I complain of being bored and ask for attractive young men, and proper ones. The prince offers me a Russian military attaché who is staying here and whose name I don’t know.
At supper he sits at another table, and the prince keeps saying there will be a funeral tomorrow: the poor attaché is pierced through by my glances. He didn’t see me and I didn’t look at him; he strikes me as mediocre.
But we laugh all the same. I am like Basilevitch at Spa in the early days, clamouring for suitors.
Why is it Fiouloulou who loves me and not Girofla!
Poor little Niçois: it does him harm and does me no good.
Whereas if it were the other one, he would follow me here, and I should have been enchanted.
What a pity it should be the one and not the other. And see how these things happen. I never for one moment wanted the one, and for a long time I wanted the other. It is absurd, upon my word of honour!
I say nothing of the effect I produced here. Looking as I did today, I could have produced one on a different set of people and in some other place than Schlangenbad. But however shabby the company, it always gives a certain pleasure.
I miss my court. Ah! if only they were here, my Nice people, all would be well. Let us resign ourselves: to bed early, up with the hens; it will do me good.
What is abominable is that there is not one decent looking-glass; they turn you blue and crooked, and they are small, so you cannot see the whole dress. Ten times a day I go up to the wardrobe to look at myself and am met by a stupid piece of wood! It is a great privation.
After supper I go upstairs; a gentleman comes towards me down the dimly lit corridor, I draw myself up and... it is Walitsky!
Oh! my friend, how disappointing: I thought I was going to meet someone, and it’s you. Go to the devil!
The cards foretell a return that will surprise me quite agreeably. I amuse myself by talking like Girofla, copying all his gestures and ways. It is pitiful. Shall I never get it into my head that he doesn’t care a straw about me!