Friday, 17 September 1875

At half past five we are woken and back in the carriage. What a pity railways did not exist in Dante's time — he would certainly have made them one of the torments of his Inferno. That pestilential smoke, that noise, that incessant shuddering!
Thanks to a book I am not entirely wretched. At Monte-Carlo I bloom and begin to laugh (with joy) without stopping until Nice. We had telegraphed ahead and the carriage is there.
Instead of washing, I run to see the builders who are doing up the rooms, then go up to the second floor where we will lodge in the meantime — not without looking at the closed windows of the château, and with a certain vexation.
In my room I undress and in my shift throw myself upon my classics, sort them, assign them to particular wardrobes — and having finished this work, throw myself on the carpet and spend an hour amid the caresses of my two dogs: the only true friends of man, were that man even Socrates.
Poi riposato un poco il corpo lasso
Ripresi via per la piagga dierta.
— but not before washing myself perfectly from head to toe. I put on over it a fine white chemise, a petticoat, and the grey batiste dress — except for the bodice, which I replace with a short cape of white foulard. I am very pretty like this.
Well then, I thought, seeing that the windows of the tower remained closed and that it was past six o'clock — let us resign ourselves: with my books we shall pass these few days agreeably enough. Let us go and see what my former belle Gioia is doing — that woman who made me run so much! And I went off quietly and alone [towards] my former belle, when all at
once a chariot drawn by two winged dragons advances and sends the white dust of the Promenade des Anglais swirling — the chariot is occupied by two men, the first being my uncle Saetone and the second my... cousin d'Audiffret, all in white. They are quite astonished to see me, have the cab turned around, and step down.
— Good day, Mademoiselle! cries Girofla in his deep, piercing bass voice, rushing forward and taking my hand — then comes the uncle's turn.
After a few words:
— Well, says Saetone, what do we do? We stay here. Mademoiselle continues her promenade?
— Yes!
— Well then, let us go.
And I must walk between these two guardian angels — I trembled a little at being seen alone in such company.
— Mademoiselle was walking there, quite alone, so poetically, so gently.
— Why yes — I had time only to dress, or rather undress, to take off my travelling clothes.
— What are you saying! you are charming like this.
I very much wanted to ask him what had come over him to have such things to say. He almost never speaks like this! But the poor boy has an air... I am not quite sure how to put it — he has an air at once confused and tender and everything. They say business is going so badly it is frightening. Poor soul! I almost pity him as much as I would pity myself.
We arrive at the door and they go in to greet my aunt who was coming towards us. On saying goodbye he pressed my hand as he did that time, and I go in so gay, so happy that my aunt scolds me and tells me I am a shameless girl.
— As much as you like, Madame — I am enchanted, enchanted, enchanted — and I make no secret of it.
I can barely understand — I do not understand at all — this great joy. I have the fever again as I did that time and think of nothing but quickly, quickly getting through the evening and reaching tomorrow. In five days he leaves again for Paris, to return to Nice for good. I shall try to arrange things so that he does not go.
Come! here is my madness taking hold of me again! For in seeing him again I find in him an air one should not
be mistaken about — and then he seemed to me [Crossed out: even sought out] very happy to see me.
Well then! as I have already said, once an idea has entered my head it stays there — and the fewer real chances there are, the more it clings to my brain. Besides, I myself do not know what to think: one day it seems to me that it is happening, another that I am despised. Hence the extremes of my mood — extraordinary joy, or vexation and anger.
— I was at the Grand Hôtel, says the man, and they told me: "Gone away!"
— Ah! well, we stayed ten days in Paris — it is your fault for not thinking of coming in fewer than eight days.
— But no, Madame, I went the day after the day after. — But if you had gone two weeks later still, that is when you would have found us, I say, laughing.
Perhaps he wanted to create an effect by making us wait for his call — or simply did not think of it! It is easy to see which of the two suppositions my self-esteem prefers.
All the people we see speak only of him, and people say that people say what Gonzales said.

Notes

"Poi riposato un poco il corpo lasso" — "Then, having rested somewhat my weary body" — Dante, Inferno, I.28. Marie's spelling: "ripasato."
"Ripresi via per la piaggia diserta" — "I resumed my way through the deserted slope" — Dante, Inferno, I.29. Marie's spelling: "piagga dierta."