Wednesday, 16 June 1880

We were to have gone to Saint-Marceaux's with Mlle Graham, but I had not warned her — she was out — and I had warned the great man, who was expecting us.
This evening Soutzo was to have accompanied Graham and me to a lecture by Hubertine Auclert (the apostle of women's rights), but it did not take place, and we go to the Salon at eight o'clock where I encounter Saint-Marceaux.
We exchange pleasantries, and I say foolishly: you never come to see us. — I am so busy! — You see, making such reproaches is stupid — now he will think Saint-Marceaux must be annoyed to meet me. No — you see, I must amount to something. Men like Saint-Marceaux must see someone in me. Mark me well — I have only a few months before exhibiting at the Salon. And I had been thinking of going to Petersburg to get married! No — I stay here, I work, and it is only in the winter of 1881–1882 that I shall go. I will be only twenty-three, and for society's purposes only twenty-two. Good heavens, that will still do.
Yes, I stay and I work. Oh yes, oh yes. You shall see. I am well — almost entirely well — tomorrow I return properly to the studio.
Nervo came, believing me ill from what Mme Gavini had told him.