Sunday, 12 October 1884

I have not been able to go out; I am quite ill, though not in bed.
The doctor has been coming every other day since the visit from Potain, who sends me his sub-Potain.
Ah! My God, my God — and my picture. My picture. My picture. My picture!
Julian came to see me. So people have been saying that I am ill.
Alas! How to hide it! And how to go to Bastien’s!

Notes

«Son sous-Potain»: Marie’s name for the junior doctor Potain sends in his place. ↩