Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 14 December 1878

I have rarely been sadder than in these two days... I have been working little of late, and domestic life here is insupportable.
The cruelest enemy would not succeed in blackening my name more than my mothers do. I answer them indignantly and appear to be entirely in the wrong. They are inconsistent, idle, shrewish!
I would far rather have one grand storm, one good tempest, than all these little inconsistencies, lack of tact, follies that make me leap, weep, die.
That good Mme Gavini — what an empty, amusing, and always cheerful woman. She never listens to music and never makes any. But she is so good to me; this evening I caught her admiring my ear and my cheek with a mother's delight.
I dreamed that Cassagnac's wife had arms covered in black hair and was adjusting (quite naked) a horsehair bustle — one in front and one behind — which formed a kind of skirt. Then she put on a black velvet turban and appeared extremely beautiful.