Friday, 8 June 1877

It is so hot one doesn't know where to put oneself. I lay down on the floor and dreamed that I was wild about Alexandre — in a dream only.
Triphon did not pay for the fête and told people that I had given him no money. As this placed me in a rather strange light with the people of the rue de France, I went to the grocer's, assembled them all, and delivered a speech that shields me from future misunderstandings. I had the honour of making the acquaintance of Mme Cornillon, wine merchant, and of other equally distinguished persons. One of my dreams is to be personally known to all classes in whatever city I settle in.
Everyone is in the garden — I am going to hear what happened at Monaco, since I can hear Maman.
Nothing good was done — a few extra anecdotes, that is all. Walitsky overheard the following dialogue yesterday at the station, where he was accompanying Mme Kondareff. But let us first note that the Russian ladies here are extremely well-versed in the natural sciences and take great pleasure in studying various phenomena both in theory and in practice.
Mme Bouldakoff approached Mme Kondareff and, after the opening civilities:
"Why did you say that my house is always damp?" she asked.
"Have I ever been to your house there?" asked Mme Kondareff in her turn.
"But you said it."
"Well — it is Closet who told me so."
"Which Closet?"
"Why, Closet — the one who was with the Boutowsky woman these past years."
"You mean Chaussade?"
"Chossade or Closet — I thought of water-closet; it is much the same."
None of this prevents, of course, the most excellent relations between them!
It seems that the Bouldakoff woman, in revenge for what our friend had said, invented a story that she had complained of having been robbed in our house. And not content with having invented it, she went and boasted of it, saying:
"Now I am sure they will send her away" — Mme Kondareff's innocence is more or less established.

Notes

The term water-closet (toilet) had entered French and Russian social vocabulary as an English loanword. Mme Kondareff confuses the name "Chaussade/Closet" with the English sanitary term, to considerable comic effect.