Friday, 25 October 1878

We had our little placement competition. A life-size head in one hour. Everyone did reasonably well; it will be difficult to judge.
I called on the Gavinis; Madame gave me an English glass piece from the Exposition, but she cannot come with me tomorrow — Mme Belletti from Nice is here for a fortnight and has monopolized her. Belletti and Randouin led the prefectoral set in Nice three years ago. As long as no one steals my old dears away from me. In the meantime Mme Gavini gives me little presents, kisses me, and tells me she is very fond of me. I said "my old dears" — but they are not old at all. Gavini is still very vigorous, and his wife is one of those Parisiennes with hair still black, skin roughened but fairly fresh, and a figure threatening to expand considerably; elegant, all the same; a harsh way of speaking — Bordeaux-bred. A certain commonness... and yet this woman is received everywhere and liked everywhere.
I am bored... we have no money.
Mouzay comes in the evening and recounts a dream she had about Cassagnac. He was a traveling salesman in corsets. "Monsieur," she told him in the dream, "is it possible to have made such a vile marriage as yours! Do you know that this disgraceful marriage costs you dearly in society, and that everyone thinks as I speak!" "What do you expect, Madame," he replied, "I did it because Mademoiselle Moussia mocked me — I married to spite her."
Oh! Whether or not he enraged me — he has certainly vexed me, and not only in a dream but in reality as well... The wretch!
It is foolish to speak of what is finished, dead — but I cannot help myself. This marriage is idiotic, idiotic and disgraceful. Not one paper said a word about it: friends out of politeness, enemies out of fear. It all passed off as though it were something shameful. The little semi-official note in Le Figaro came afterward like an excuse, an explanation. If the young and pretty comtesse Stephano-Acard-Julia-Clément-Laurier were a respectable match, friends would have said something; they certainly trumpeted the death of the abbé de Cassagnac, Paul's uncle, and printed excerpts in other papers.