Tuesday, 27 April 1880

Saint-Amand arrives to recite “La Nuit d’Octobre,” but I do not yet know it, and besides, I slip away, impatient to have my first sitting with the American. She looks like Madame Récamier. I pin up her hair in the Psyche style and put her in a batiste chemise with short, puffed sleeves, a pink ribbon around her waist beneath her bosom, and a straw-coloured scarf in which she wraps her arms. She is exquisitely thin — astonishingly so for eighteen — the thinness of fifteen. A complexion of radiant freshness and very white little paws.

Notes

La Nuit d’octobre (1837), a poem by Alfred de Musset. ↩