Sunday, 7 July 1878

Yesterday, Sunday, Multedo came again, at the same time as the Priest. If the Corsican imagines he will have dealings with this personage through me, he is mistaken. He had just come from the Gavinis', and we were on our way there. We had barely been there a quarter of an hour when the marquise Multedo rushed in, out of breath, not quite properly dressed, and visibly sent there by her dear son.
At seven o'clock we depart. Grandfather wished me to stay, but I said my farewells — and he kissed me and all at once burst into tears, his nose wrinkled, his mouth open, his eyes shut — just like a child! Before his illness it was nothing, but now I adore him.
Imagine a being transported from Paris to Soden. Dead silence conveys but feebly the calm that reigns in Soden. It dazed me as one would be dazed by a great noise.