Monday, March 29:
R. run down; he had a restless night, but he calls me for dictation, first reading to me beforehand something from Parerga about the hopeful assumptions which the rare appearance of good, of genius, permits. “He is so truthful,” says R., “that he has to allow that.”
He is cheerful at lunch, relates to us several things from the Fl. Blätter. But in the afternoon he feels very run down; last night had a bad effect on him. He himself invited Herr T., but everything now tires him out.
He goes to bed, but leaps up to play a merry game of whist with Loldi, Boni, and me. (I asked Herr v. St. to go out for a while.)