Saturday, January 5:
Once again R. dreamed the thoughts which gave me a sleepless night! He works and, around noon, calls me in order to play me the conclusion of the entrance of the Knights of the Grail and Titurel’s wonderfully melancholic appeal. “I have spoiled things for the spa orchestras,” he says with a laugh; “my entrance ends without ‘suffering’!” I am still overwhelmed by my impressions, while he, seeming to be swimming in his element, enlivens our lunch table with his high spirits. He gives me the “Schmerzensblatt”!
I then tell him how this morning Herr v. W. and I began to arrange the library; then we discuss Herr v. W.’s work with the patrons. “It was time,” says R., “that I was allowed for once to write a work under such good auspices.” At 7 o’clock I leave him to take Lusch to her first ball, returning home at 3:30 a.m.! I decide to make up for the boredom of this most frivolous of duties by not showing any signs of weariness at home, and on