Wednesday, 30 October 1878

“You look quite flattened, my dear,” said de Daillens when I came to her around noon on leaving the atelier.
I had gone there late, around ten o’clock, and saw Paul de Cassagnac on the Boulevard des Capucines, walking with swinging arms, nose in the air, body cleaving the air, exactly as if he were about to break down a door. I craned my neck; he craned his; we recognised each other. I drew back slightly — and that was all. I regret having stepped back; I [word crossed out] should have stayed at the window — he would undoubtedly have bowed to me.
This encounter made a flattening impression on me; I remained in a daze at the atelier and in a daze for the rest of the day.
Madame Gavini came to us, and Mme Tarnowsky in the evening.
Etienne leaves tomorrow.
Robert-Fleury came to the atelier in the evening and asked me whether I had everything I needed for the sculpture.

Notes

Marie’s coinage: aplatissante [sic]. ↩