Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Thursday, 16 October 1884

I have terrible fevers that exhaust me. I spend entire days in the drawing room, moving from armchair to sofa.
Bastien has come again. And Robert-Fleury.
Dina reads novels to me. Potain came yesterday; he will come again tomorrow. This man has no more need of money — if he comes several times it is because he takes some interest in me.
I cannot go out at all. But poor Bastien does go out, so he has himself carried here; he settles into an armchair with his legs stretched out on cushions, I sit close by in another armchair — and so we remain until five or six o'clock.
I am dressed in a jumble of laces and plush — all white, but different whites; Bastien's eye dilates with pleasure at the sight: oh! if only I could paint!
And I!
Done with this year's picture.