R. unwell, must remain in bed! Appears to be a chill. Much time with the children during the day (letters written to the elder ones); in the evening alone in my little grey chamber. A violent storm; the equinox—it is said not to be good to be at sea at this time of year; I wonder whether Hans is now on his way to America, and I am anxious! Marian’s picture gazes upon me—she who said to her friend: “I trust, indeed, you did not pray to God for my life.” In the day commissions for the winter garments needed in Vienna! I am very calm, and even, I think, cheerful—yet ever with an open, incurable wound. A favourite memory of mine now is the St. Luke of Mabuse in Prague—its rapture and its composure, the devotion of the Saint and the prudence of the genius, in addition to the splendid setting, which is not appropriate even for such a person.
Revised English translation by Jo Cousins.