Bright early ― but cloudy from noon to sunset ― i.e. gleamy cloudy.
Did not go out all day.
No letters. ― Wrote to E. Baring.
Worked by fits ― yet pretty well.
Dined at 6.15.
Talk with G. about going yo England ― & about his returning. After a long fit of bother, he says, & says rightly ― “Posso dire, non è lo stesso come prima. Cristo is dead. Giovanni is no longer living in houses. Spiro has left us, & we do not know if he will ever return. My mother is old: my wife is a good one ― but alone ― my sons are not old enough to take care of them. So, though I would go all over the world with you, I ought to go back. ― And you must no longer pay 4 months wages for no work, which you cannot afford ―: therefore I ought to leave you, e ^[per] quanto sia male non fa niente, πρέπει νὰ ἠναι οὐτως.”
Andhe is right & good: & so it must be.
It is better thus perhaps ―: yet nearly 10 years of good service from a faithful good fellow make the parting hard. ― ὦ ζωή μας! Τι εἶσαι;
Bed at 10.30.
 I can say it is not the same as before.
 Even though it is not a good thing, it does not matter.
 It must be so.
 O life! What are you?
[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3. Image.]