Thursday, August 19:
A bad night. R. feels we had supper yesterday too soon after our lunch; he had alarming dreams about the children. But in the morning we decide that, when I return home from the gallery, I am to show him S. Pietro. This visit succeeds beyond all expectations; he is thoroughly pleased, particularly by the choir.
A very strict diet does him good, and around 4 o'clock we set off on a drive around and through Perugia, which at sunset and moonrise has a decided effect, on me a very heartening and inspiring one because of R.'s delight in everything, which delights me, and the fact that he is better. In the evening he declares in the most humorous way that he will not go to Grafenberg. He laughs over pine trees, spa guests, spa music, in fact the complete prospectus, which has much alarmed him. He keeps exclaiming, "What an ass I should be to leave Italy during the loveliest months for pine trees and rain and a third winter paletot!" Much sending of telegrams canceling everything, with R. in high good humor.