Thursday, 28 February 1878

Alexandre — my uncle Alexandre — arrived this morning.
I go to the atelier all the same; only, at lunch and dinner, instead of quarrelling, we tell each other the news from Russia.
Etienne wants me to paint his portrait. I began it today.
There is something between Cassagnac and me, I mean to say that something is broken...
It is the monk’s hood that was, if not the cause, at least the precursor. That hood bodes ill.
In any case, for the moment I do not care about it overmuch — I shall know how to find him again, provided... he wears well.