Tuesday, 20 March 1883

I go to give my numbers to Julian, and we chat for more than an hour, about everything in the world.
— Only, Monsieur, we must sum up — I shall do it in two words. All that we have said of Bastien, Saint-Marceaux, Michelangelo, the Pope, philosophy, art reduces to...
— Do not finish!... My painting.
— Exactly!
The essential thing is a good number...
And in the evening I receive a delightful surprise. A letter for Maman in which she is told that if she does not pay on behalf of her brother they will resort to publicity and everything. And that the letters where she promises to pay are in hand. So!...
Each time I cannot believe it! And yet. But if you knew what cowardly hypocrisy!
She always says: Ah, that was in the past — I was foolish, I was mad, I did not know the world; but now do I involve myself in that man's affairs? And stories like that to the point of convincing me... And there it is!
And all this mud is for me... And no way out. No means of defence — none, none, none!
I seize a letter — I make a scene. And then? I remained I know not how long seated on the stair steps, stunned, desperate, lost. This man promises a heap of "unpleasantnesses" if one does not pay. It is not a matter of paying!!! But of being mixed up in this filth! Of having to deal with all these infamies of hotel-keepers, creditors, café-keepers... of [Pages 136 to 140 of the manuscript torn out]... and I would respect them even so, for I fear God — perhaps because... Like unhappy people and dogs beaten too often who are afraid of everything.