Wednesday, June 8:
“You are all soul, love, kindness,” R. said to me yesterday, whereas I feel like Gretchen: “know not what he finds in me.” Gave lessons to the children; R. unfortunately unwell and in gloomy mood. Very inopportune the visit of Friedrich Porges and his wife from Vienna, since R. has little inclination to talk, and they stay a long time. Wretched cold weather, the sort of day one just has to put up with.
Late supper, since R. has to correct the proofs of his biography. And we read nothing in the evening.