in order
to put on a pair of old shoes! Another, an old man who was probably some
wealthy upstart (these are the most ill-bred), while sitting opposite to
me, had the delicacy to place his two feet on the seat quite close to me.
This is a positive fact.

At the watering-places the vulgarity is unrestrained. I must here make
one admission--that my indignation is perhaps due to the fact that I
am not accustomed to associate, as a rule, with the sort of people one
comes across here, for I should be less shocked by their manners if I had
the opportunity of observing them oftener. In the office of the hotel I
was nearly thrown down by a young man who snatched the key over my head.
Another knocked against me so violently without begging my pardon or
lifting his hat, coming away from a ball at the Casino, that it gave me a
pain in the chest. It is the same way with all of them. Watch them
addressing ladies on the terrace; they scarcely ever bow. They merely
raise their hands to their headgear. But, indeed, as they are all more or
less bald, it is the best plan.

But what exasperates and disgusts me particularly is the liberty they
take of talking in public, without any kind of precaution, about the most
revolting adventures. When two men are together, they relate to each
other, in the broadest language and with the most abominable comments
really horrible stories, without caring in the slightest degree whether a
woman's ear is within reach of their voices. Yesterday, on the beach, I
was forced to leave the place where I was sitting in order not to be any
longer the involuntary confidante of an obscene anecdote, told in such
immodest language that I felt just as humiliated as indignant at having
heard it. Would not the most elementary good-breeding teach them to speak
in a lower tone about such matters when we are near at hand. Etretat is,
moreover, the country of gossip and scandal. From five to seven o'clock
you can see people wandering about in quest of scandal, which they retail
from group to group. As you remarked to me, my dear aunt, tittle-tattle
is the mark of petty individuals and petty minds. It is also the
consolation of women who are no longer loved or sought after. It is
enough for me to observe the women who are fondest of gossiping to be
persuaded that you are quite right.

The other day I was present at a musical evening at the Casino, given by
a remarkable artist, Madame Masson, who sings in a truly delightfu