Wednesday, October 5:
R. dreams about me during the night, that I leave him, but he calls out, “Minna.” He gets up, talks about it, and then dreams again; this time he says, “It was you, after all.” In the morning he is not feeling well; he complains about the doctor, then says jokingly that one should just let him grumble, then it would all be over with.
We think of distant lands, of Palermo. He reads about it in Baedeker and then goes to his work with a semblance of good cheer. But the fog is not conducive to a drive. In a letter Princess Marie Hohenlohe urges me to give Daniela to my father as a companion!
In the evening, to our very great delight, my father plays two Beethoven sonatas (E major, A-flat major). Afterward we play whist, and R. is glad that “nobody” is there.