Wednesday, 31 July 1878

Now one of the fashionable households (the other has left again) from Petersburg joins our company, as well as old Prince Ouroussoff, whose sister, married to Monsieur Maltzov, is an intimate friend of the Empress. He has the air, according to Dourassoff, of a nineteenth-century philosopher — a charming conversationalist besides, and a man of the world, of the old school. As for Dourassoff, he accompanied me on a long walk over hill and dale this morning.
The ladies think that the princes’ indifference grates on me. — This spoiled child, says Madame Antonsky, who is accustomed to seeing her slightest whims carried out, is wounded by the coldness — apparent, in any case — of these gentlemen... Just think! They dine side by side every day...
Just think — but it is I who do not think of it at all; I merely laugh at how, at Soden and elsewhere, kind people attribute to you feelings, impressions, thoughts you do not have in the least. For two days I did in fact concern myself with them a little, but afterwards... not at all. But since the others speak of it, I am willing to tell you that I have never looked at them properly; yet I can say that the younger, Hans (eighteen), is tall, slim, fair, with a large, rather fine nose, small eyes, a mischievous mouth, almost no moustache, head bowed, the air of a young wolf. The other, Auguste, twenty-four or twenty-five, shorter, dark, with very beautiful eyes, a black drooping moustache (and in his whole person there is something drooping), a velvety skin such as I do not think I have ever seen on a man, a fine mouth, a regular nose, neither round nor pointed, neither aquiline nor classical, a nose whose skin is velvety too, which is exceedingly rare, and a very pale complexion which would be admirable were it not the result of illness. Both have fine, aristocratic, well-kept hands. And what if I looked properly!!!
This evening I posed before the mirror like Dannecker’s Ariadne in Frankfurt... and, look, that spares me telling you a great many things: if you wish to know how I am made, go to Frankfurt and look at the Ariadne. who is made like me. Even the toes, which are not classical (in that the second does not project beyond the big toe), are like mine, and I assure you this pleased me. That second toe of the antique statues never failed to vex me a little. My hips are fuller and my neck less thick, less round, less classical. What consoles me for this defect is the fineness of my wrists and ankles consoles me for this defect.