Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Thursday, 28 October 1875

The band played from half past two — which is to say that the season has begun. Yet few people knew of the change, and the appearance of the Promenade was rather wretched — especially because Lachaud is pleading in the case of that young [illegible] who murdered Brémond. Everyone is at the assizes.
In passing we called in on Antonoff; this good fellow showed us his villa. I am as easy with him as with the women of the rue de France and my good friends the fishwives.
Just as we are about to sit down to table, my Graces arrive, and in the evening we go to the theatre.
I hide behind Dina, free in this way to look at whomever I please; and I take advantage of this freedom to watch d'Audiffret, who enters his box with such a wicked expression that everyone in our party remarks on it. I am content: when I cannot see him I am bored; hidden away I can look at him freely. And it is strange — when he laughed, I laughed; and when he grew serious, I grew serious and pensive. I like him very much.
[Marginal note: 23 November 1875, Paris. Oh! Ho!]
At the second interval I show myself to the full house, then withdraw into the shadows once more.
I showed myself because I feared he might come to our box, knowing me absent. I spared myself a disagreement — and perhaps deprived myself of a pleasure.
Fiouloulou comes to tell us what happened at the assizes; after him enter the Surprising One and Pépino, who has taken things seriously and arrives still under the impression of the other evening. He looks at me, positions himself behind me, and speaks to me; but this evening I treat everyone equally, and the Surprising One is better with me. What one must do to improve him bores me greatly, but it is the only way. I would always like to talk to him — and if I do that, he will treat me like a dog.
La Prodgers with Roissard her lover, in a ground-floor box opposite, begins to yawn and grimace on seeing these visitors in our box.
Why do women yawn when they are jealous and envious? My mother has remarked on it a hundred times, and so have I, as many times as I have had the opportunity in my short life.
I ask again for my portrait.
"You no longer have it, Monsieur. And to whom have you given it!"
"No — listen, it is very pretty; I am very fond of the dark background."
"The one I shall give you is also on a dark background."
"Ah! In that case —"
"Impetuous lord of the castle! — if you wished to do me a kindness, would you do it? Be nice — very nice — give me back my portrait," I say, truly, gently.
"And afterward you will not give me another," he says, shaken.
"Ah! When I took the other to scratch off the inscription, I gave you my word I would return it — did I return it?"
"Yes."
"Well then?"
I hope he will return it — and I fear I may not have enough force of character to deceive him and not give him another.
This creature says an impertinent thing to Giroflé, just as he did to me the other evening.
"Mademoiselle, you have been sleeping on your nose — see, it leans to the left."
It is true — Olga has this defect, which does not however prevent her from being pretty. With her this impertinence has quite another character; they say all manner of things to each other, and no one even took notice of what he said.
How curious — the two little grey ones, the two little monkeys, Danis and Count Laurenti, sharing a pair of opera glasses from a small dark ground-floor box.
All these people — I mean those who come to the box — will come to our house tomorrow —
As before!
My aunt does not fail to poison the evening for me with a few well-aimed barbs delivered while I undress.
But bah!

Notes

Charles Lachaud (1817–1882), the celebrated criminal barrister. ↩
The contemptuous la before her surname is Marie's standard signal of social disdain. ↩
Marie's ironic title for Audiffret, who lives in a castle-like building across the street. ↩