Sunday, 7 March 1880

I keep working, but nothing is painted yet. And I have only until the 20th of March. If I pull it off, it will be quite something.
Soutzo and Courtès; we rehearse.
Soutzo wants to get Arnaud to speak of my letter, insult him, and suffer the consequences. It is a mad scheme and I forbid him to think of it, but he answers that I cannot prevent him from giving a lesson in good manners to a boor like Arnaud. But everyone I have spoken to about the matter agrees that Géry’s conduct (I have named him to no one) is stupid.
That is true; one has only to think about it for two seconds to see that our archangel is nothing but a simpleton. Alas, just picture the Pure and ineffable Gabriel...
All the same, I prefer him to Soutzo.