Wednesday, June 2:
R. slept well, goes for a walk early in the morning, although it is already very hot, then goes to his work. I visit an institute for poor children, a former Augustinian monastery. Splendid Gothic hall looking out onto cloisters, the poor children there probably less unhappy, one feels, than anywhere else. All the same, a disagreeable impression of the sisters of mercy.
R. very content when I return, teasing me as he always does when he is well and cheerful. At 5 o'clock walk up to the palm tree, around 6 settle down on the big terrace, which is at its best at this hour, and a lovely, long, glorious evening beneath a haze of stars, flares from Vesuvius lighting up fishing boats and Posilipo.
Few words, a tender inner awareness of the gentle omnipotence of Nature here, which I can compare only with his love.