# Saturday, 18 November 1876

Saturday, 18 November 1876

Last Thursday we were in Vienna until six o’clock. My father took me to Sacher’s, the restaurateur, and showed me a little of the imperial city — wishing to be taken for my husband, which I dreaded with great repugnance.
When one travels in our style and throws money about, one is promptly served everywhere — even in the carriage. The attentiveness and repeated “Excellencies” please my father; as for me, I would be surprised only by the contrary, and the more honour I receive, the more natural I find it — just as befits me.
I have not ceased thinking of Antonelli, almost in spite of myself, and this compulsion to have him in my thoughts causes me a very strange feeling. I do not know what I ought to believe. Love, hatred, spite, indifference, horror? What is clear is that I despise him, and that this leaves me with infinite grief. My imagination was so active that the next day, Friday, at some station I no longer remember, it seemed to me that... that man came running, breathless, fell to his knees before me seizing my hands before I had time to feel indignant, and looked at me with that face... of then, and those crafty yet caressing eyes, anxiously amorous... Follies, follies that should have been worn out long since.
This morning, Saturday, at five o’clock we entered Paris.
From Vienna, as on the way to Vienna, we had a saloon carriage with beds, etc. But whatever the case... the noise, the jolting have exhausted me. And above all the atrocious smoke.
We found a telegram from Maman at the Grand Hôtel.
We took apartments on the first floor; I took a bath and waited for Maman. But I am in such despair that nothing moves me anymore.
She arrived with Dina — Dina happy, calm, continuing her work as a sister of charity, a guardian angel.
You can well imagine that I have never been more embarrassed: Papa and Maman. I did not know where to put myself.
written across the page
And as a rule it takes more than a trifle to embarrass me.
The dissolute, cold, unfeeling man facing the sick, unhappy, indignant woman. She could not but reproach him; he would see in it only insults. And I between the two. There were several scenes but nothing too alarming.
We went out — my mother, my father, I, and Dina.
We dined together and went to see La Belle Hélène with Judic. I stayed in the darkest corner of the box, my eyes so heavy with sleep that I could barely see.

Notes

Sacher’s — the famous Viennese restaurant and hotel founded by Eduard Sacher in 1876, renowned for its Sachertorte. ↩
Judic — Anna Judic (1849–1911), the celebrated operetta star of the Parisian stage, famous for her performances of Offenbach. ↩