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Marie Bashkirtseff (From Childhood to Girlhood) by Marie Bashkirtseff
page 62 of 80 (77%)
I looked with all my eyes, without stirring, almost without
breathing. In the proper costume of night-gown and unbound hair. But
everything was very vague; it quivered, danced, formed, and reformed
every instant.


Saturday, January 1st, 1876.

Here is the new year. Greeting and mercy. Well, the first day of
1876 was not so bad as I expected. They say the whole year is spent
very much like the first day, and it is true. I spent the first of
last January in the cars, and I have really travelled a great deal.

To-morrow, yes, to-morrow I shall be glad to go. I am perfectly
happy, for I have made a plan--a plan that will fail like the
others, but which amuses me in the meanwhile. If it were not two
o'clock in the morning, I would write a whole story of the sale of a
soul. The brutes--I have not wept, I have not felt sad once. A very
pleasant day to commence the year. I shall go and think only of
returning. No doubt I shall change my mind in Rome. All the same,
this is where I should like to live.

I had already closed my book, but I and a lot of things to say. I
have looked at the great caricature, there are five of us. I have
thought of everything; of Mme. B----, of the English, of the people
of Nice, of S----, of "Mignon." In a word, a quantity of things. I
had a great deal to say, and lo! I stop.

It is tiresome to go, but it is horrible to stay. P---- has dramatic
emotions so genuine that she delights and thrills me. Come, what was
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