Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Wednesday, 3 November 1875

The Promenade without Bibi, as my aunt has said.
We saluted each other from a distance — he in a carriage, we on foot.
The band plays every day from now on.
I went out this morning on foot, then in the carriage with Maman.
The weather is so fine, as it is in winter here. One feels well.
“He is punishing you today,” say Maman and my aunt; “yesterday you did not go to the theatre, and he will punish you this evening.”
“Punish me! You talk nonsense — you know perfectly well that none of this matters to me.”
They are giving Le procès Veauradieux; we go to see it.
I am coiffed like an angel.
I hide for half the evening and then show myself; the man watches me a great deal — he is in the stalls. Hidden behind Maman, I was able to look over her shoulder at that fresh face which I like so very much.
I maintained excellent composure during the act with the dressing gown and the Greek cap — as for him, he did not even look, which proves he has not the slightest idea of the truth. And indeed, how could one suspect me of such a thing!
No one in the box; Nina would think it is because her daughters are not with us.
I think nothing — I had gone to the theatre in a tender frame of mind, pleased with myself, prepared to converse quietly, without laughing.
Before the last act the man leaves with Fiouloulou. He did not visit anyone — not even la Prodgers, whose box is near the stalls entrance and who nearly pulled him by the coat, and who had a blonde prepared in her box especially for him.
Because he has not come, the whole Areopagus — Maman, my aunt, and Dina — changes countenance: they take offence, look sideways at me, are vexed! They are terrible, and it is from them that my most disagreeable torments come.
As for me, I am suddenly as though plunged into lukewarm water. I say nothing; I hurry home and set myself to praying to God, then to consulting the cards.
It is frightening how accurately they predict everything for me — so accurate that I am afraid. Tonight they tell me unpleasant things. In a word: Gioia will return, or there will be another woman in her place.
The Queen of Hearts pursues me, placing herself ceaselessly between me and the King of Clubs, accompanied by the blackest cards. These dark omens trouble me, frighten me — I want to leave to avoid them. I fear them so much! As with the illness at Spa — at that thought alone the blood rushes to my face.
If it is not Gioia — may the plague choke her! — then it is another. I far prefer Gioia to some other woman — a hundred times prefer her!
If I do not complain this evening it is not for want of subject — but having just re-read my journal of the days when Gioia appeared, I find that what I said then is absolutely the same as what I would say now.
I must leave — it is the only way to spare myself a heap of horrors.

Notes

Le procès Veauradieux (literally The Veauradieux Lawsuit): The farce by Alfred Hennequin and Alfred Delacour (Paris, 1875) that Marie said on 26 October she was not allowed to see. ↩
L’aréopage — the Areopagus, the ancient Athenian high court; Marie’s ironic term for the family tribunal that sits in judgement on her romantic affairs. ↩
Trempée dans de l’eau tiède — soaked in lukewarm water: not the sharp shock of cold but the draining dispiritement of tepidness. Marie’s visceral metaphor for emotional deflation. ↩
Gioia — a woman Audiffret was previously involved with; Marie’s rival, mentioned in earlier carnets. ↩
In Marie’s tarot readings: the Queen of Hearts = a rival woman; the King of Clubs = Audiffret (a dark-haired man). ↩
Ces noirceurs — literally “these blacknesses”: the dark, ill-omened cards in the spread. ↩
Que la peste étouffe — may the plague choke her! A vivid period curse. ↩