Sunday, 11 August 1878

A heap of things — trifles in truth, but they set my nerves on such edge that I yawned the whole evening; yawning is contagious, and within five minutes everyone on the terrace was yawning.
A new form of entertainment which made everyone laugh all the more because Fritz broke a globe and an old Jewish woman was terrified by it. I shall tell you tomorrow what happened... and then my stratagem... for it does not suit me to be taken for anything less than Napoleon or Alexander the Great. For a moment I was near to hating Mme Abaza... I... my star is no longer visible owing to some celestial conjunction I cannot fathom, and whenever my star hides from me I have nothing but troubles...
I always think of things too late. I am vexed, overwrought, unwell.
After making music and having run out of diversions, Mme Coubé and I take to whistling a duet. The Jew who plays the piano was dumbfounded by it, and the madman who drinks from the decanters went off to tell the beer manufacturer.