Friday, October 8:
Much time with Vreneli, and then with the children. R. orchestrates a page of his Siegfried. After lunch the arrival of the birds he is presenting to Loulou gives us much, much delight.
Unfortunately R. returns home from his walk in a bad humor, and in connection with a letter from Claire he calls me to account in a manner which soon arouses angry impatience in me, for I know quite well that I have never failed him in anything and have guarded his honor more jealously than my own.
This impatience, so foreign to my nature, upsets me terribly, and as I write this, my whole body is trembling and quaking, and I feel torn to pieces.