Sunday, October 29:
R. dreamed about Minna, and in consequence recalls her behavior in Konigsberg and the dreadfully harsh treatment, the reproaches, he received at the hands of Minna's mother in Dresden. He says it was the first time he had ever experienced anything so brutal, and it was terrible. He works and is satisfied with his work.
Then together we go to the Correr Museum opposite, and it pleases him very much. Lunch is for him always somewhat embarrassing, on account of the many different languages which have to be used, but the most important thing for him is that the children, the Gravinas, should not notice.
In the afternoon he is greatly vexed by a letter from friend Feustel, who, it seems, tells him rather carelessly that V. and Batz have submitted their accounts, but without the earnings from Tristan. Fundamentally, he feels, all businessmen are the same. Quite beside himself with rage, he goes with me to the post office and sends off a telegram to Herr Voltz saying that he will withhold his signature if the money from Tristan is not paid to him. We then take a short stroll in Saint Mark's Square, which is still fairly damp; most of all he enjoys sitting under the portal between the columns, he says he would like to be painted there.
Gradually he calms down; at home he finds news of good receipts in Vienna, he writes to Feustel and, now calmed down, goes with us in the evening to our friends at the Pal. Malipiero. At supper Ada Pinelli tells us about the spiritualist soirees at Prince Liechtenstein's (Neulengbach), and afterward R. plays Bach's C-sharp Minor Prelude, then, accompanied by friend Mimi, Marke's speech and Tristan's farewell; finally he plays us I.'s apotheosis. He then says of his piano playing that he plays the same way that Count Sandor used to drive - throwing the reins over the horses' necks and hurtling through the countryside, crying, 'This is how we drive in Hungary!'