Thursday, 22 November 1877

Little Zurlo took us to call on the Neapolitan painter Tofano, who lodges in the same house as we do. While we were there, another equally Neapolitan painter arrived — Vienelli, a student of Julian's. What is astonishing is that Julian has spoken of me to them... I am still so weak — I know nothing... yet, but I show promise.
I believe I quite dazzled them — not to use a more flattering word for myself. We talked of everything: of Naples, of its exhibition, and a thousand things that sprung from it and did not spring from it.
Little Zurlo left at half past eleven.
I went to the studio in the evening all the same; Robert-Fleury was there. I am tired and it is really very good of me to write to you today — for I still have a page of the Gospel to read and my prayers to say, which I do every evening with a regularity nothing disturbs. In this, and in the details of my going to bed and getting up, I am as regular as a Swiss clock, whatever hour I retire.