Sunday, 8 April 1883

Were it only out of curiosity. For in the end I know only what passed within me, and I should very much like to see the other side. What did he think?
Did he even find me pretty?
He said to his intimate governess… What? That I was in love with him? How could he have known it when I did not know it myself? What would he have boasted of? So it is true that all this is something that counts in my life.
In short… We saw each other for eighteen months and barely once a month. So I preoccupied him? Or is it from those letters and those impassioned appeals at the time of his marriage that everything would date? Yes, everything must date from there. Without that he would never have known anything.
So he amused himself by showing these anonymous letters — barely disguised, since he knew at once… And I wrote them almost without conviction —
I truly never know whether I am deeply gripped… Except for paintings, and even then there are moments… Up to now… It seems to me I could quite well live without him, but I would not wish to live with another unless I had hope of finding him again some day…

Notes

"Gouvernante intime": a discreet euphemism for a kept mistress — here Madame Presseq.