Sunday, 15 February 1880

My old harpist sends two tickets for the Conservatoire, and I go there with Maman, leaving at home the Poitrineaus, Wodzinski, and Kiki, who was just about to leave!
Hecht is there, in a box with Mme Adam and two other ladies. They saw us... As for me, I hardly took in what was being played. These nasty little miseries strike like a club... Yet, why does he bear a grudge against me? I believe it is Maman who invented this to explain something I do not know. They tell me, Maman, my aunt, and Dina, that I am blind. “What, my dear! This man came every day, twice a day, and you believe he had nothing in mind? Whom have you ever seen come like him and sit there in raptures like him? Are you a fool, then?! And when he saw that he was looked on as a Jew, when Motta told him so, he became our enemy.” It is a supposition and not an explanation. But I have bad luck enough in life for it to be true.
You remember, we dined at his house; he was to dine at ours the day after next, and at six o’clock in the evening we received his telegram. Since then, two visits, then nothing. But why rack one’s brains searching when one can do nothing about it? What does the cause matter when the result is so detestable!
We paid a visit to Mme de Bailleul, who has just moved in; Mme Grandperret was there. You know, old Mother Bailleul is a real friend; she dines with us three times a week, and la Mouzay calls her a sponger.
You see, the reason I sometimes take an interest in Arnaud is that I must have whatever is best, whatever people talk about, whatever occupies them; everything that rises or makes a stir fascinates me, and I must have it.
Not that Arnaud is..., but after all he is the undisputed lion of the Republic, the foremost young man of the Government, the dandy of official society, and even the other world takes notice of him and seems to regard him as worth more than “those ruffians.”