Sunday, 24 November 1878

Nadine slept in my room, and Paul too — he was afraid of dead Juliette!
My room was full of cigarettes and trousers... The servants assumed that all three of us had spent the night out.
By now I have established myself to perfection. I told them what I have just written, and much else besides; I was thoroughly a Cassagnac once, and I still am from time to time — rarely, though.
The score opens like a flower on second hearing; one should go again — the flower would bloom and spread a quite delightful perfume.