Tuesday, 29 May 1883

We arrive there around half past ten and I leave with reluctance toward noon. He first talked like an angel, and then he uncovered his statue, barely roughed in yet already marvellous. It is the dance — or a woman dancing, a slow dance, something oriental yet of an original Orient, and charming. A ravishing creature who dances alone for her own pleasure, by the light of the moon. It is a reverie of the dance... There will be very flowing draperies; he showed me the sketch. And it must be intimate, poetic... unexplained. He understands very well that beyond, that mystery, that spark one cannot define but does understand; he claims not to achieve it, and very sincerely... He is a true great artist, and very agreeable. I must gather all my ramblings on the arts scattered through this vast journal — it would be curious, and besides I esteem my judgements, which prove to be those of this great man and of Bastien as well. But Saint-Marceaux sees even better than Bastien, and perhaps I say that because several times he has said what I have written or thought — I smiled at this with a certain self-satisfaction. Am I really intelligent and an artist? He has a poodle and a blue parrot. He gives me precise instructions and I shall obey them religiously. Dina thinks him handsome, but during dinner with the Engelhardts and the priest we arrive at the discovery that Saint-Marceaux must be Jewish. Yes, Jewish. First, he resembles Diaz de Soria — that is not yet proof in itself, but he visits the Rothschilds, he made the bust of old Hecht, and he never dines out in society on the pretext of a weak stomach. He must therefore be a Jew, and a strict observer. Well? What do you make of that? He is the colouring of Soria, and now it seems to me I can see the character of the Jewish race in his features. Ah — that would be disagreeable... There would be nothing for it but to fall back on the rue Legendre, but there it is, I have foolishly quarrelled... No — is he Jewish? What does it matter? I have dreams that foretell journeys. And I pray to God that it does not happen.