2–8 February 1857

Indigestion, cold, dull, morally fatigued. I think The Lost One is quite ready. Remembered my shameful indecision in the matter of the papers for G. which in accord with a letter from Kolbasin were brought me by Kas&tkin. I told Chich^rin about it and he seemed to despise me. I want to write a letter to Mile. Vergani to show that the fault, si fault il y a , is not mine, and I much want to wri'e a letter to Mengden. She is charming, and what joyful relations we might have. Why do I not feel such enjoyment with my sister ? Perhaps the whole delight consists in standing on the threshold of love.

Have arrived and the sun has just risen ai.J flours the wall of the house. En. gets up, dresses. Quelle heure Jait-il ? No, that is really too much.

(21 new style). Have been travelling all these days. A muddle in my head and in my notes. Reached Paris to-day. Am alone, doing everything without a servant. A new town, a new way of life, absence of connections, and the spring sunshine which I have scented. It must certainly mark an epoch. Accuracy, and above all at least four hours of solitude and work every day. I could not be intimate with Turgenev or Nekrdsov. Have spent much money and done absolutely nothing. Diarrhoea. To-morrow first thing must abso- lutely work. Went to the bal de VOpira. Madness. Les Trois Pruneaux. A French Davydov with clenched teeth — the whole drama in the wording. A Capucin — donnez - moi a boire in a bass voice. Turgenev suspicious and pitiably weak, Nekrdsov gloomy.