Saturday, 15 December 1883

Same. This child is maddening! Rosalie and Irma were exhausting themselves telling her stories... Nothing! I have angelic patience — but by dint of containing my rage, towards four in the afternoon I fall into an atrocious despair. It is worse than everything, and love is decidedly nothing beside art — that is at least what I think at present. Let us hope that one day it will be quite the reverse. In the evening to the Invisibles with the Canroberts. Gabriel Géry sent me a Turkish robe, [word blackened: old-fashioned].