Tuesday, 7 August 1877

During the two hours Rémy spent with us I was well-behaved and rather pleasant; at four o'clock we went to dine at the Russian restaurant, taking the American with us — she who eats and drinks in a manner that is a true pleasure to behold.
And at eight o'clock, Maman, Dina, grand-papa, Walitsky, Triphon, Prater, and Renard departed for the blessed land of Schlangenbad. Despite all our quarrels, we were moved to tears at this fortnight's separation.
I came home very tired, and Hall came to have supper with me — that is to say, while I ate a pigeon, she also ate a pigeon, a slice of galantine, and drank a bottle of champagne.
Do not forget that she had lunched at noon, dined at four, and dined lightly again at six. Alexandre is a mere child beside this surprising gangster. The young lady is seventeen, very tall, enormous, blonde, and beautiful. Yesterday I woke her at noon, and with her hair loose — that face abundantly carved in rosy ivory, that immense body — she was superb. Dressed she looks like a man.
We talk of Florence.
You think I am not anxious about Russia?! What being sufficiently wretched, sufficiently contemptible... would forget their country in peril?! You think that fable of the race of the hare and the tortoise, applied to Russia and Turkey, does not pain me?! Because I speak of pigeons, of Americans, and of Alexandre — am I not anxious, seriously anxious, about our war?!
Do you think that the hundred thousand slaughtered Russians would have died if my wishes and anxieties alone had been needed to defend them!!
Florence, Rome, Paris... it matters not, for I am desperate! I have lost all courage and all hope. I await nothing more!!!
And that is what terrifies me, and that is what annihilates me.
It is with terror that I think of a stay in Paris, and with despair of a journey to Italy.
Let us wait for the return of our people, for the end of the cures — and in the meantime... oh! in the meantime... I shall try to keep occupied, to read, to dream, to sleep!
Instead of what one had reason and wrong to expect... an existence like mine!!!... May God preserve you from it, whoever you are.
Perhaps one should rejoice in it — perhaps God will reward me for it...
Do you know why my heart is desperate?
Because it seems to me that I can no longer please anyone. And that horrible — the most horrible of fears — makes me worse than dead.
Julie de Benkendorff is certainly in the country — at about this time of year she was there when I passed through Berlin.
Yes... but what if I please no one? !!!
[Note: Marie wrote "Tuesday 7 August 1877" but this is an error; 7 August was a Monday]

Notes

Russian restaurant (cabaret russe): one of several Russian restaurants then operating in Paris, frequented by the Russian expatriate community.
In English in the original. Marie uses the English slang "gangster" in the sense of a prodigious eater.
The Russo-Turkish War of 1877–78, fought over the Balkans; Russia was progressing slowly against Ottoman resistance, prompting public anxiety in Saint Petersburg and among Russian expatriates.