Tuesday, 21 December 1875

What a dream! I saw Audiffret — as in the other dream in summer — our cheeks touching; then I saw my bare foot on the Surprising One’s knee. It is a bad sign.
I was in town for a thousand things, for my rooms; after which I was with Maman and, instead of weeping, I laughed — begging to be taken to the Cercle, pressing my face against the wall, groaning, then turning round and bursting out laughing. Face to the wall and stamping one’s foot on the floor — that is the Surprising One’s manner; that is why it pleases me and why I do it.
I am almost pretty — and on the Promenade we see Audiffret. I felt ill at ease on seeing him; that business of yesterday was stupid.
At last, in the evening — a great gathering, a great conversation. It is decided to go to Rome, and then, if in Rome there is nothing, to my father’s — for it must be settled. I insist, I demand it, I can bear no more.
It goes without saying that I am waiting for that invitation, and above all longing for it — and it goes without saying too that I do not receive it. At ten o’clock I leave our gathering. Enough had been said about everything, and about Audiffret in particular; his conduct had been analysed from the very beginning — and my aunt said that we ought to have refused his acquaintance at the time.
“And now,” cried Dina, “Marie would want to know him and we could no longer do so!”
“Ah ha!” said my aunt. “A hundred times more easily — and how interested he would be, and how he would run, and how, without being asked, he would bring every invitation in the world.”
And how I agree with my aunt! But what’s done is done. Could one have foreseen it?
But is it not his duty to send us an invitation to this club — he who is a member, who knows us!
Ah! my God — let us leave all that; I cannot write tonight; I understand nothing.
Instead of going back to my room, I listen at the dining-room door, and I hear the complete story of our downfall in Nice.
But we had arranged things foolishly; we did not make the acquaintance of the right people; we knew cads like the Howards, and when I said that they were not the ones who counted for anything, I was told that I did not know what I wanted, that a family like the Howards was all one needed and the very best there was.
There, there, there! It would be heartbreaking, and too long, to set down the whole story here.
As I take down my hair I become so pretty that I have not the strength to leave my mirror before midnight.
The ugliest part of it is that Audiffret should be mixed up in my accursed torment; every time I speak of my torment, the answer I get is: Audiffret.
I am vexed, ashamed, humiliated and furious enough to burst!