Thursday, August 12:
Very unwell; the doctor is amazed that with the weakness of my pulse I can still walk about. I spend the whole morning lying down, distracting, or rather edifying, myself with the Wanderjahre.
The botany student here again. Hermine still ill; in the afternoon I am again on my feet. [A sentence containing an untranslatable word play omitted.]
Still nothing from Munich; it weighs like a ton on my heart when I think of it. I was alarmed today when Loulou told me of a pain in her side.