Yesterday I had a suckling pig roasted and invited the Russians. One eats in the most irregular fashion — at least I do. I cannot stomach the filth they serve for dinner at one o'clock, or the vile things eaten at seven with tea.

And today the Princes of Reuss came to call on our simpletons — who are now three. I did not so much as glance at them — whether from indifference or for effect. They play roulette. Fat Afrossimoff loses, takes his tea, sighs — such a good-natured soul! The doctor, his English wife, Madame Abaza, Madame Outine, Madame Antonsky, Madame Rembelinsky — sickly, slow, thin, dark, extremely white and pink (naturally), black hair and a turned-up nose — my aunt, and finally I, utterly exhausted by the baths and by this colourless company...