The following day Vasily happened to offer me a pass for the dress rehearsal of 'Judith*' with Chaliapin at the Mariinsky Theatre, which had just begun, and Esche** happened to be there. 'Why don't you come with me, I'll take you,' I said. At first she was reluctant, saying that she would not be allowed in, but soon allowed herself to be persuaded and we set off. We got in without too much difficulty, and sat together in the stalls. I was bored to tears: the opera is dreary beyond words and Chaliapin was not singing well. Esche was not concentrating, spending most of her time ogling the best-looking of the singers. When the third act started I went home. I've almost completely lost interest in Esche.