Monday, June 23:
In spite of his vexation, R. had a good night, and our conversation with the elder girls yesterday develops from that; I feel that, apart from R., Aeschylus is the only writer who makes his gods speak with such familiarity and nobility. R. finishes his article today and reads it to me; he says he hopes my father will not take the things he says in it about Brahms to apply to himself. I reply that, although I impress consideration both on other people and on myself, my sole thought as far as he, R., is concerned, is that he should feel completely free, come what may. In the afternoon he reads his splendid article to me in the summerhouse, and then we take Siegfried to the swimming school.
In the evening R. reads his article to our friend Wolz, but suffers somewhat from his lack of communicativeness, so that he tells me later that from now on he will read things only to me.