Monday, April 19:
R. somewhat tired, down in the dumps, as he says; on top of that, eternally gray skies. He reads Marc Monnier’s description of the Camorra, which interests him.
We stroll together in the flowering garden, R. and I, and enjoy this lovely world.
In the evening whist with our friend Liechtenstein, and after that a reading of Chapter XVII, to which R. supplies an admiring commentary.