July 5, 1897 [After the Ball, the Bath]

Am I capable of setting aside metaphor to write about After the Ball, the Bath, and write simply and clearly? And if so, can I do more than note the strange hue of the water poured on the lady, the perfunctory nature of the bath itself, the demure details—some clothes remaining, the lady facing the rear? And can I even avoid the feeble joke that's it's I who face the rear, just as it's the rear that faces me?

Obviously not; otherwise, all that I would leave myself on this bright and collar-wilting day is the admission of pleasure at a French surprise as curved and sudden as my slightly guilty smile, another married man casting a glance after the ball.