Friday, February 4:
Dictation; deep, deep melancholy; Siegfried the only source of amusement. R. wanders up to the theater: it is like a desert up there! The preparations for accommodations are having to be pursued very casually, since nobody has the slightest idea who will come.
My pessimism is such that I can scarcely believe any more in the money value of curiosity! R. would like to explain the position to a patron. A nice book from an English lady, Helen Zimmern, a biography of Schopenhauer, done with great understanding. In the evening Don Quixote.