You may just as well skip this day, O you who will never read this diary — for I am going to speak once again of my grief, eternally fresh and painful.

At the concert there was a crowd; happy little Leech was turning her radiant canary face in all directions. The Winslows have arrived. Lewin with his wife Clémentine, pregnant to the last degree. I think one ought to hide when one is in such a state.

I had put on my corset and dress badly and was very uncomfortable — which, added to the vexation of seeing everyone know each other, see each other, speak to each other, made me very wretched.

While searching for my unknown we found a rare beauty.

A young man of twenty-two to twenty-four, very tall, admirably well-built, distinguished and superb in his gait, in his slightest movements. A beautiful and adorable face, a complexion such as I have never seen, magnificent and not-stupid features — and a Hamilton-style dress. I have never in my life seen a man so handsome. I even blushed on seeing him, and involuntarily I at once compared him with Audiffret — entirely to the latter's disadvantage. He was walking on the pavement on the house side, and I arranged to encounter him several times.

On the second encounter I discovered that his hair was rather fair and his moustache rather dark.

Finally, toward half past four, when the cold began to descend on the Promenade, I got down from the carriage and went in by the garden gate — just at the moment when the superb young man was passing before our villa.

Maman thought I had not seen him and called me back toward the carriage — so that my dress almost brushed against him.

He is so beautiful, so beautiful, so beautiful that he must be either stupid or something else. Such perfection cannot exist — I want to see him again tomorrow to examine him more closely.

I think I saw him one evening, for a moment, in Wiesbaden with the Leeches — and I said then that I found him magnificent.

"I should very much like to know who this young man is, whether he is a great lord, and what he is called..."

Sir Frederick Johnstone is a cad in comparison. Hamilton himself is less handsome — for Hamilton is a little too stout.

Mme d'Audiffret is driving about in hired cabs and poorly dressed — we encounter her everywhere.

She creates scandal by her presence here.

Back at home I abandon myself to all my sorrows, and am ready to weep every time I speak.

The more people there are, the more brilliant Nice is, the more I suffer. This life will kill me; I can bear it no longer; I am too unhappy.

I am going to change my manner: instead of making scenes and weeping, I shall be silent and let what passes in my heart be seen in my face — perhaps they will have pity on me and bestir themselves more.

In Nice we cannot be well: Georges — that adored, cherished man whom I would like to strangle — has made too much scandal, and all of it has fallen back on me, wretched creature.

Two winters' absence might change things. My God! Let me leave — be good! You see how I suffer; You see my broken heart, my mind tarnished, clouded, wretched!

Take me in Your mercy, O great God! Forgive me for writing my prayers — but it seems to me that when I write, You hear me better.

Holy Virgin, whose divine name I bear — Holy Virgin Marie, pray God for me.

And You, Jesus, who were on earth — look upon me with a favourable eye; understand my pain; do not despise a frivolous and vain creature who implores You to take her into Your grace.

You see how wretched I am — help me!