Monday, July 31:
R. wakes up with the same vexed thoughts with which he went to bed. He feels he will have to abandon the festivals because of the unsuitability of the place. The Dannreuthers have lunch with us; the Irish question and its insolubility are discussed, then R. talks about the Oupnekhat and reads a passage from it, incomprehensible when torn from its context. R. then goes into the garden. A girl comes to him and asks for alms; R. chides her, saying she is doing it for her father: “Well, what about your father?” “He is in prison.” I, for my part, receive sad news about friend Gobineau. And a reception in the evening! A small, crippled Prince of Hesse, Mme Lucca too, very tormenting for R.