Sunday, August 3:
Unfortunately R. did not have a good night - very hot; he remains downstairs in the salon, reads, and does some writing. We also, for once, have breakfast in the salon.
The heat allows us to go outdoors only in the evening. We have supper in the open and then go for a moonlight walk in the palace gardens; delight in the glowworms in the shrubbery, “They’re telling themselves, ‘Dark’s the time for sparks,’ ” says R.
It is ten o’clock before we return to the salon, and R. sings “Leave me the veil, I beg” as an example of absurd declamation and the desire for “melody at all costs”! We accompany Rub. to the gate and then stroll in the garden, R. and I.