Saturday, 8 April 1882

Yesterday afternoon we went to church — it was Good Friday and all of Russia was there. I am obliged to go from time to time, for Maman goes constantly and it looks so strange to always see Madame and never Mademoiselle.
One invents some reason at once, I know not what. I never pray in church — it is merely a nuisance of seeing all these Russians, or the vanity of a new dress.
You know this dear Savine — quite a fine fellow. He had lost everything and was awaiting a remittance; without thinking ill of him, because he told everyone about his arrangement with the hotel-keeper, this open-heartedness inspired confidence, so he borrowed on all sides. Then he received money — and instead of quickly extricating himself from this cruel position, he gambled again without thinking of the hotel bill or the old debts.
And to arrange matters better he moved in with Barnola, who had offered him hospitality at his villa. In short, a quantity of unsavoury things — but one did not take notice, always on account of that open-natured air with which he told you about it all. Finally, after a miserable argument at the gaming table, he slaps an Italian and refuses to fight a duel; the witnesses — all Italians — did try to call him a coward in the middle of the London House, but the result was the total disappearance of M. Savine. A curious detail: it was Larderei who was the most furious of the witnesses for the poor wretch who was slapped. This dreadful Savine went about telling everyone he was Papa's own nephew, and they will go on saying that the members of our family always cause scandals.