Tuesday, 16 July 1878

Multedo does not know how to manage his affairs. He has sent me my guitar — mended. You can well imagine the difference a new guitar in a pretty case would have made. Nothing of the sort. No, truly, poor boy — you are not generous, and however much you may resemble Napoleon the First, you are nonetheless a man who does not know how to manage his affairs, to say nothing of courtesy or gallantry.
Without counting that the tone has deteriorated after the repair. Dear Multedo. And as if on purpose, Villemessant has abolished La Petite Correspondance. Otherwise I should have had it printed immediately that the gentleman who broke a guitar by... sitting on it, and who has returned it glued together, is requested to present himself at Soden so that it may be broken over his head.
Do you know what our Russians get up to? They play roulette — each taking the banker's turn — but it is the fat Afrossimoff who is banker nearly always.
The Hohenlohes are not the ones from the Embassy — in any case I trouble myself no more about it, although there is a young man... but all men are indifferent to me at present; I prefer only those who prefer me — and the Deceased. It is only when thinking of others that I find him still within me.
I still place him in my fantasies — not because he pleases me now, but as he once pleased me. As for thinking of him in any other way, you will understand that there is nothing of the sort. For me, he is dead — and well dead.

Notes

The small ads / personal column of Le Figaro, under the editorship of its founder Hippolyte de Villemessant.