Thursday, 27 February 1879

At the London House, Paul saw Des Perrières and the Comte Scotti, who advised him to write a letter. For here is the situation. If nothing came of it we would leave, and Eristoff would have the pretext of saying that Paul insulted him and then fled. So Paul had the idea of sending someone to tell him that he is staying at the Hôtel du Parc and will remain in Nice until Saturday. These gentlemen did not approve of this idea and opted for the letter that follows — which is, alas, by me.
Monsieur, I have been looking for you for some time now, to demand satisfaction for the infamy you committed in stealing a letter written by me and interpreting it in an odious manner. Having come to Nice last January with the sole aim of meeting you, I did not have that good fortune, so careful had you been to hide. It was only last Tuesday, under cover of a domino, that I had the pleasure of approaching you and, unmasking myself in the very middle of the Préfecture grandstand, insulted you for a quarter of an hour. It appears, Monsieur, that you do not yet consider yourself sufficiently insulted; I therefore have the honour of explaining to you that by my words I gave you a moral slap in the face.
I trust, Monsieur, that you will not place me under the cruel necessity of giving you a more material one. I shall not hide from you that I have the greatest repugnance for acts of violence, to which alone, however, you appear to be susceptible.
I shall wait until ten o’clock tomorrow.
To this letter Eristoff replied that the police would be informed.
What do you say to that?
So Paul and I went to the Chief Commissioner of Police; I stayed in the cab and Paul went in, and the fellow promised to let us know if anything came up.
I am afraid of one thing: I am afraid that the Tutcheffs, clinging to their memories of Monsieur Georges, will try to present Paul as a successor to that accursed man, and will invent that he means to slap or beat a woman, as that abomination Georges did with the Tolstoy woman.
Maman is unwell; Gautier will not come. So we go with Dina, Paul — and Dourassoff comes too. Second Patti evening. Faust. Well... I admired, but I felt neither pleasure nor emotion. Paul played the hero, unaware and not foreseeing which way these cowards would turn the matter. As for me, I was elegant but tired and ugly.
Marcuard came to the box and then Barnola. Lewin, being at Marcuard’s box (next to ours), spoke to me, so I was obliged to reply. On leaving I suffered again at seeing all these people who know one another, who are carefree and at ease.