Monday, 12 August 1878

Yesterday Dourassoff talked with them for at least an hour on the terrace, and here is the quintessence of all that conversation: they have no strong desire to be introduced — Auguste at least, for Gans is a child and says nothing. That is too much! I am filled with stupefaction and shame. Dourassoff also says they want to be introduced to me but not to the others... who are always with us. Absurd!
I have sent them a caricature by post; they are already so furious with me that one more offence will make no difference. I promised that distinguished woman [Mme Abaza] to tell her at the moment of departure one thing which has supposedly put my self-esteem to rest, and I exacted the most absolute secrecy... I shall tell her that Schwarz is desperately in love with me, that he has written to say so, and that seeing my contempt he has sworn to flee from me. I shall say it convincingly enough.
This morning I conducted a hunt as foolish as Dourassoff himself, who accompanied me with another Russian gentleman. We tracked Schwarz; these two men, who could not feel how ridiculous they were making themselves by joining in such a caper, must have exasperated the beautiful mummy, who came and sat close by us and took his coffee for two hours.
I was with the Coubes and their little Nick. The Gans were calling the hens and I was keeping them from coming; we each tried to attract these interesting animals, and the Gans laughed and I laughed.
I then set about sketching Schwarz in a notebook and he set about sculpting me in butter. He imitates the hens' clucking and I the cock's crow, and little Nick says: "Fie! Gans! Bobo tip-tip" (hurting the chickens). The creature was hitting them with his cane. Once they had gone I put on a blue pince-nez, a hat like theirs, turned up my coat collar, took a ribbon in my mouth to simulate a moustache and, taking a cane, gave a performance for the Coubes! There was no one else.
At dinner he does not push back his plate! What eyes that man has!
It has been demonstrated that chest diseases are perfectly repellent — yet this has not prevented consumptives from possessing a charm that other invalids never have, nor the healthy either, and which inspires in one a nameless charming compassion. I am wearing the blue pince-nez. Baron Schenck, that commissioner or prefect's son, is here. I scarcely speak to him and do not trouble myself about him — I do not even believe he is in love with me. Fie! How dreadful.
They say Schwarz has large blue eyes. They are divine.