Monday, July 26:
R. had a good night; he says he is longing for rain at last. “All you are fit for is day and night.” Letters from Bayreuth cause him vexation because of printing delays; he writes to friend Wolzogen about it and also, jokingly, about his article; he says, too, that he can hold out no hope to friend Schön for 10,000 marks, indeed not even for 100,000, for the hope he offers is an ideal one.
He is run down and is still spitting up a little blood. At lunch, when I tell him about what I am reading, Sismondi’s history, he says, “Yes, it’s frightful what historians tell you in cold blood, not one of them expresses horror at such a state of affairs.”
Evening on the terrace, no bath for either of us. Sudden concern about Loldi. R. cheerful, however. Saint Anne is being celebrated with a great variety of fireworks.