Monday, 22 December 1879

in the marginnote de Marie sur la page de titre du Livre 87
Drawing, 3 October 1877 Painting, 30 September 1878 Medal, 14 January 1879 Edmond’s prediction, L. 75, p. 6
I expected to do something altogether different in this world from what I am doing in it. And since it is not what I thought, it matters little to me what it may be.
I go back to the atelier just in time for competition week. A fine model, a good place, and I am in good form.
I went back to the Gavinis’ in fear and trembling; I imagined that the Gérys had told them about Arnaud and me at Murcie.
There was nothing of the sort; on the contrary, old Mother Gavini told me that the Maréchale Canrobert and other ladies have been there and that it is perfectly proper.
Winter is here, the festivities are about to begin; there will not be too many, but there will be some. On Saturday, I believe, a charity sale at the Ministry of War. I spend the evening weeping. What an existence. Listen! Not even to go to the Republicans’, whom society calls riffraff — that is too much! And I don’t care a fig for society! Society is intelligence, talent and power. Add to that a woman... of a particular kind, and there is your society.