Friday, 14 June 1878

I invited Mme Gavini to come to the Grand Prix with us, and I went to tell Mouzay about my journeys to Versailles; she told me in exchange that Cassagnac is riddled with debts, that he is getting married, and that Mme Presseq has returned to Algeria to be with her husband.
Low-life gossip. No matter... each time someone speaks to me of this marriage it is a fresh grief.
I find this in a book, and since it relates to certain things that have happened to me I copy it in full. How many times I have been ashamed in just this way... but read:
"For a timid and tender woman nothing can surpass the torment of having permitted herself, in the presence of a man, something which she believes she ought to blush for; I am convinced that a woman of some pride would prefer a thousand deaths. (One need not even be timid and tender for this.) A slight liberty taken on the tender side by the man one loves gives a moment of keen pleasure; if he seems to blame it, or merely to enjoy it without rapture, it must leave in the soul a dreadful doubt.
For a woman above the common there is therefore everything to gain in maintaining very reserved manners.
The game is unequal: one risks, against a small pleasure or against the advantage of appearing slightly more amiable, the danger of a burning remorse and a feeling of shame that must make even the beloved less dear. A evening spent gaily, carelessly, and without thinking of anything is dearly paid for at this price. The sight of a lover with whom one fears to have committed this kind of fault must become hateful for several days. Can one wonder at the strength of a habit from which the slightest infractions are permitted only by the most atrocious shame?"
Last night I had a quite pleasant dream. I dreamed that
Cassagnac and I were holding each other a little more than arm in arm... nothing indelicate — oh! no — but we were talking very close together... I nestled beside him as on that last evening at 10 bis, rue de Boulogne — fraternally, but so... nicely.
And then there was a dog that followed me. A dog is a good sign. But the rest — bad... you see what Mouzay told me.
He is riddled with debts; he is marrying this young lady to get out of them, no doubt... what if I were to tell him: do not marry her — I am ready to marry you! And what if he were to answer no?
It was Mouzay who gave me this idea; she is convinced he would say yes. She does not see him as I see him — I see him larger than life, apparently.
What filth, this life!