A day spent with Mirbeau at the Clos-Saint-Blaise. The Robins were expected, but at the moment Robin belongs to Liane de Pougy.
Montesquiou was due to leave with me at 2.25, but he arrived only in time for dinner. On the train afterwards, talking about the book in prose which he intends to write and which only he can write, a book of memories of old personalities of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, he told me countless anecdotes, including this one about a woman he knows who is very proud of her wealth. She engaged a little maid in a neat bonnet. After all the terms of service had been settled, just as the maid was going out she stopped at the door and said: 'I must ask Madame whether Madame plays the dog, because if so I can't accept those terms.' To play the dog is to go shopping with one's maid.
- Edmond de Goncourt