Friday, 3 May 1878

This afternoon I drew Dina's figure, which is horribly difficult but interesting. Three years ago at Nice I found her bust ill-made because I had seen only my own; and now that I have seen fifty models I have changed my opinion — I find that Dina may be classed among the women
well made — and easily.
The Swiss girls find that from the waist up I am absolutely perfect; it is true that I have only seen in antique sculpture a bust so upturned. From the waist down these same Swiss girls find me simply ugly — for my hips are much too large and my feet too small for such a curved pelvis. These imperfections humiliate me a little, but I console myself with the thought that they are defects greatly appreciated by modern taste.
The Russian priest has come; I had to leave my drawing and go with him to papa's.
That dog Cassagnac was supposed to write to arrange to come to dinner, so that maman should not know of our visit. It is already Friday — I have sent to ask him. What a sort of Newfoundland is this creature.
Before I did not believe it; now I believe he is as mad as I am. Poor me — I had imagined a thousand excellent things of him; now I suppose a thousand villanies. He has accepted money from women; he is a vulgar insulter, an impudent creature, a... Etc., etc.