All my mind was centered on my studies, which, especially at the beginning, were difficult. In fact, I was insufficiently prepared to follow the physical science course at the Sorbonne, for, despite all my efforts, I had not succeeded in acquiring in Poland a preparation as complete as that of the French students following the same course. So I was obliged to supply this deficiency, especially in mathematics. I divided my time between courses, experimental work, and study in the library. In the evening I worked in my room, sometimes very late into the night. All that I saw and learned that was new delighted me. It was like a new world opened to me, the world of science, which I was at last permitted to know in all liberty.
I have pleasant memories of my relations with my student companions. Reserved and shy at the beginning, it was not long before I noticed that the students, nearly all of whom worked seriously, were disposed to be friendly. Our conversations about our studies deepened our interest in the problems we discussed.
Among the Polish students I did not have any companions in my studies. Nevertheless, my relations with their small colony had a certain intimacy. From time to time we would gather in one another's bare rooms, where we could talk over national questions and feel less isolated. We would also go for walks together, or attend public reunions, for we were all interested in politics. By the end of the first year, however, I was forced to give up these relationships, for I found that all my energy had to be concentrated on my studies, in order to achieve them as soon as possible. I was even obliged to devote most of my vacation time to mathematics.
My persistent efforts were not in vain. I was able to make up for the deficiency of my training and to pass examinations at the same time with the other students. I even had the satisfaction of graduating in first rank as "licenciée es sciences physiques" in , and in second rank as "licenciée es sciences mathématiques" in, .
My brother-in-law, recalling later these years of work under the conditions I have just described, jokingly referred to them as "the heroic period of my sister-in-law's life." For myself, I shall always consider one of the best memories of my life that period of solitary years exclusively devoted to the studies, finally within my reach, for which I had waited so long.
It was in that I first met Pierre Curie. One of my compatriots, a professor at the University of Fribourg, having called upon me, invited me to his home, with a young physicist of Paris, whom he knew and esteemed highly. Upon entering the room I perceived, standing framed by the French window opening on the balcony, a tall young man with auburn hair and large, limpid eyes. I noticed the grave and gentle expression of his face, as well as a certain abandon in his attitude, suggesting the dreamer absorbed in his reflections. He showed me a simple cordiality and seemed to me very sympathetic. After that first interview he expressed the desire to see me again and to continue our conversation of that evening on scientific and social subjects in which he and I were both interested, and on which we seemed to have similar opinions.
Some time later, he came to me in my student room and we became good friends. He described to me his days, filled with work, and his dream of an existence entirely devoted to science. He was not long in asking me to share that existence, but I could not decide at once; I hesitated before a decision that meant abandoning my country and my family.
I went back to Poland for my vacation, without knowing whether or not I was to return to Paris. But circumstances permitted me again to take up my work there in the autumn of that year. I entered one of the physics laboratories at the Sorbonne, to begin experimental research in preparation for my doctor's thesis.
Again I saw Pierre Curie. Our work drew us closer and closer, until we were both convinced that neither of us could find a better life companion. So our marriage was decided upon and took place a little later, in July, .
Pierre Curie had just received his doctor's degree and had been made professor in the School of Physics and Chemistry of the City of Paris. He was thirty-six years old, and already a physicist known and appreciated in France and abroad. Solely preoccupied with scientific investigation, he had paid little attention to his career, and his material resources were very modest. He lived at Sceaux, in the suburbs of Paris, with his old parents, whom he loved tenderly, and whom he described as "exquisite" the first time he spoke to me about them. In fact, they were so: the father was an elderly physician of high intellect and strong character, and the mother the most excellent of women, entirely devoted to her husband and her sons. Pierre's elder brother, who was then professor at the University of Montpellier, was always his best friend. So I had the privilege of entering into a family worthy of affection and esteem, and where I found the warmest welcome.
We were married in the simplest way. I wore no unusual dress on my marriage day, and only a few friends were present at the ceremony, but I had the joy of having my father and my second sister come from Poland.
We did not care for more than a quiet place in which to live and to work, and were happy to find a little apartment of three rooms with a beautiful view of a garden. A few pieces of furniture came to us from our parents. With a money gift from a relative we acquired two bicycles to take us out into the country.
