Saturday, 11 October 1884

A wonder! Towards three o'clock I had just finished shivering before the drawing-room fireplace — settled there like an invalid — when Dina rushes in.
— Him, him, the real one, word of honour!
It was him — Jules. He was cold at home, something or other, so instead of the Bois — the weather is uncertain — he comes to spend the afternoon here. Dear angel! We install him with enthusiasm, everyone bustles about. Ah! what happiness! Is it not sweet — is it not proof that he loves us!
I had his hand to hold again — it appears I do it very well. Well, every time that naively, without thinking, from the depths of the heart, like a child, [words cancelled: and when] one invokes God [words cancelled] — He always hears. I know perfectly well it is a foolish notion… And besides, these moments are so rare. When one prepares to pray it is worth nothing. One needs faith… But it can only exist, I tell you, in rare moments, when one forgets, when one does not…
Enough.