Wednesday, 8 December 1880

This evening the citizens Alexandrine Norscott and Pauline Orell attended the weekly proceedings of the Society for Women's Rights.
It takes place in Hubertine's small drawing room. A lamp on the desk to the left; to the right, the fireplace surmounted by a bust of the Republic; and in the middle, with its back to the window, which itself faces the door, a table laden with files, adorned with a candle, a bell, and a President who looks very dirty and very stupid. To the President's left, Hubertine, who every time she speaks lowers her eyes and rubs her hands constantly. To the right, a dry old socialist woman, furious, who cries out that if there is striking to be done, she will strike first. Some twenty old female types, a sort of concierge who has escaped her porter's lodge, and a few men — the dregs of what one imagines: fellows with long hair and impossible hairstyles whom people refuse to listen to in cafes. I have a very black wig and very black eyebrows. The men babbled on about socialism, collectivism, and the betrayals of the most advanced deputies. The red woman in the corner declared war on religion; at this, de Daillens-Norscott protested and delivered several bits of speeches that stood out favorably. Besides, Hubertine is very wise and understands that it is a matter neither of proletarians nor of millionaires, but of woman in general who demands her rights. That is the ground on which everyone should be kept.
Instead of that, they spoke of political shades.
We are registered, we have voted, paid, etc. There you have it.

Notes

Marie and Madame de Daillens attended the feminist society under pseudonyms — Marie as "Pauline Orell" and de Daillens as "Alexandrine Norscott" — to protect their identities.