Tuesday, 2 October 1877

Today is the day we move to 71 Champs-Élysées. Despite all this upheaval I found time to go to the Atelier Julian,¹ the only serious one for women. One works there every day from eight to twelve and from one to five. A nude man was posing when Monsieur Julian led me into the room.

We encountered Torlonia who is decidedly very agreeable, and it is the Paris air, ten times on the steps and near the cashier. This so well-bred young man has become more agreeable. It is the Paris air. Had he been like this in Rome I would have imagined him in love with me. All men of the world are more or less distinguished, polite, attentive — but this magnificent Torgnole² has a distinction and a politeness all his own; I do not know whether I am making myself clear when I say that one can plainly see he was brought up by a distinguished and intelligent woman — she alone can give those simple, good manners. One could not be more agreeable, more pleasant, more chic, more anything you please, than this Jew³ — but for me he is the well-bred man par excellence. Well, I love everything that is excellent, whether it be a man, a dress, a dinner, or a factory.