Saturday, 15 June 1878

I called on Mme Gavini to make arrangements for tomorrow. I am paying a full court to the former prefect's wife — provided the devil does not spoil anything for me.
It is the eve of the Grand Prix, and with the intelligence that characterises us, we go to the circus — without gentlemen. I wear the same hat as at the kermesse — a ravishing affair with roses that one would swear were real.
I need not describe the pleasure to you; besides, I never see anyone at these large gatherings. On the way out we encounter M. d'Alt. Then I call for a moment at Yorke's.
Just imagine — Robert-Fleury refused to say a word, my drawing was so bad. Then I showed him the one from last week (last Saturday — Versailles) and received compliments. That is not too bad.
There are days when everything wearies one...