Friday, September 30:
R. had a restless night; the doctor’s treatment has only made things worse. Three leeches are applied - R. calls them the Three Graces - and he has to stay in bed. He complains that his score is shagreen in reverse - the more he works on it, the longer it becomes.
I remain upstairs, and since the doctor shows no anxiety, I return to my wonted mood. “This is what I love - to be by myself with you.” He: “And I by myself for you.”
I read his article over and over again and tell him of my heavenly delight in it. He reads Trois ans en Asie with much enjoyment, only deploring the remarks in favor of the Catholic church. Thus do we spend the day; only in the evening he sends me to my father, and I play whist with him and our friends.
The doctor came in the course of the day, and he remains unperturbed, although the rheumatic pains are severe.