Friday, 24 August 1877

Invigorating air, absolute calm, deathly silence, abominable music that ought to be suppressed in the interest of the sick.
We were at Schwalbach today, where there are fashionable people. I feel very well physically. As for the rest — it is ridiculous!
I could endure it after a fashion, but the stupid indifference of Madame my mother revolts me.
Grand-papa takes his walks; Walitsky teases Etienne about his parrot, which has sometimes torn all his clothes to shreds, sometimes been strangled itself by Pincio — and twenty times a day it is something new, and twenty times a day Etienne falls for it.