Saturday, October 1:
R. slept well. But a misunderstanding about his bath upsets him greatly. However, he soon calms down, and we have a merry breakfast in spite of his pain. He gets up but cannot work on his “shagreen,” contenting himself with reading.
At lunch much about our friends: the things about them that seem alien to us, the consequence of their race, which has allowed no established practice to emerge; the good in them, their own individual possession - we agree on that. All sorts of business matters, Neumanniades, London, etc., also Levi-orchestra. I settle everything with friend Gross.
Supper without my father, who is in much pain from an inflamed gland. [Two sentences of purely etymological interest omitted.] In the evening he asks me to read aloud from Trois ans en Asie, but before that, before supper, he plays “O sink hernieder” from Tristan to me. And continual discussions about his heavenly article.
An anecdote told by Jouk., about a general who pocketed 10,000 francs, leads him at supper to the French conception of honor; they will do anything, he says, but always observe the convention of keeping silent about it; anyone who is foolhardy enough to say what he has done will be put to the knife.