Thursday, 25 April 1878

Prince Karageorgevitch paid a call on maman.
Half an hour before dinner we receive a note from Cassagnac asking to be allowed to come in town dress.
Then Blanc arrives in full evening dress, and after him Cassagnac in a frock coat — which gave rise to an amusing incident in the hall.
Triphon was absolutely determined to take his coat from him, thinking it an overcoat.
At once all constraint disappears, and after dinner maman and the frigate captain settle down to cards, while Paul, Dina and Marie (in intimacy we call each other by our first names) go off to my room where they carry on until half past eleven. But I have lost a few illusions this evening — I have discovered that Cassagnac lies, and further that his respect, his veneration, his great hobbyhorse in short — all of it is merely a pretext, not to say a means, to permit himself what another would never dare. My feet are his, certainly — I shall say no more about that; but my arms are not; and in fact he does more or less as he pleases, while declaring that we three are three exceptional creatures and that besides, even while remaining respectful in looking at the foot or the hand or the arm, one would sully the woman by thoughts one has no right etc., etc.
You know, I cannot quite render this astonishing profession of faith — but I assure you it was very fine; and since I pride myself on a certain delicacy of feeling, I truly have no need to probe what lies behind what is said, nor to seek evil where there is none — though it would be extremely easy to find a great deal if one were to dwell on a word or refuse to accept things frankly as they are offered. Cassagnac, who is very grave as you know, laughed the whole evening like a mere Multedo. [Words crossed out: He told us] about his marriage and gave his word of honour that there was nothing in it. That pleases me.
Besides, he is scarcely a man to me — I could put my arms round his neck and rest my head on his shoulder in the most natural way in the world, treating him as I treat my Swedish girls at the atelier, without the slightest trouble. This is no doubt owing to the purity of his thoughts... Dina maintains that I am nonetheless a woman to him; I believe not, and even if it were so I do not wish to know it — it would prevent me from enjoying myself, from pulling him by the hair, from taking off my slippers and giving him my feet, and from saying farewell to him in the Russian manner, he kissing my hand and I kissing him on the forehead. Oh! I barely brushed him, and it was for the first time, and in front of Dina, and in Russia it is quite the custom — and besides, everything depends on the tone, the intention...
Blanc conducted himself like a gem, saying good things of me
and in a skilful manner. No matter — Cassagnac with his ways can lead one a long way without one's noticing, which is indeed what I told him.
We are to meet again perhaps on Saturday and certainly on Tuesday.