Friday, 11 August 1882

What a pity that so good, so gentle a man is not something... possible. Since I sit for him every day I study him — he is an excellent and simple soul.
By Sunday we shall have finished...
We speak laughingly of marrying him off. I shall marry him to Dina — that would be a thousand times better than with Julian, it’s more distinguished, and may perhaps be easier. Tony’s wife will be very happy; he has a rare heart. And I, with this ridiculous Bonapartist love affair!
Oh, there are things in that past to make one’s teeth grind! The way he treated Dina and me!!
What did he take us for, good Lord!
It is shameful and revolting, but I am going to say it to mortify myself. Here it is: he accompanied us in the carriage, sitting on the front seat. I stretched out my feet; he took one and held it in his hand, placing it on his knees [three-quarters of the page cut out]. Well, after such coarseness, after such behaviour, I have the nerve to talk about this Monsieur Acard!!
I tell myself that it was I who provoked his improprieties... So I did not look like a spoiled child! I looked like some sort of loose woman! [three-quarters of the page cut out].
Dumas fils is right when in The Clemenceau Case he speaks of the need to astonish, to reign... When she takes old and ugly lovers... It is in woman’s nature; I understand it. To love a superior, an equal... But to go and love a man who feels himself unworthy of you and who receives your favours as Moses received the twelve tables, for whom you are not a woman but a goddess... It is... It is amusing. To seek out a being who does not dare raise his eyes to you and say: Take me... There must be a supreme pleasure in that — and in short, would it not be a kind of... immense Charity?...
And then, is it really so wicked to take pleasure in the happiness one gives to one who cannot give it in return? There is a little of that in my imaginings...
Oh, you know — such... charities as that I shall only have in thought, of course; I speak of them in connection with Tony, who is alone and bored, and all his family who are old and ailing... Suppose I were to offer to marry him...
There it is. It is tiresome that one cannot see the effect without compromising oneself... It is not that I am foolish enough to believe myself irresistible, but it is perfectly natural that a man in those circumstances should be madly in love with you.
All this shows me that there is in me an irresistible need to imagine and to write, and that I want... Good night.

Notes

Marie writes “the twelve tables” — confusing Moses’ tablets of the Law with the Roman Twelve Tables. ↩