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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
96
Presently
I
got
up
and
walked
past--in
the
knowledge
that
she
must
now
be
conscious
of
my
presence
after
a
disappearance
of
three
years.
Later
we
met
face
to
face
and
I
broke
the
ice.
She's
a
pretty
girl....
So
too
is
her
sister.
Few
people,
except
my
barber,
know
how
amorous
I
am.
He
has
to
shave
my
sinuous
lips.
June
3.
Spent
many
dreadful
hours
cogitating
whether
to
accept
their
invitation
to
dinner....
I
wanted
to
go
for
several
reasons.
I
wanted
to
see
her
in
a
home-setting
for
the
first
time,
and
I
wanted
to
spend
the
evening
with
three
pretty
girls.
I
also
had
the
idea
of
displaying
myself
to
the
scrutinising
gaze
of
the
family
as
the
hero
of
the
old
romance:
and
of
showing
Her
how
much
I
had
progressed
since
last
we
met
and
what
a
treasure
she
had
lost.
On
the
other
hand,
I
was
afraid
that
the
invitation
was
only
a
casual
one,
I
feared
a
snuffy
reception,
a
frosty
smile
and
a
rigid
hand.
Could
I
go
up
and
partake
of
meat
at
their
board,
among
brothers
and
sisters
taking
me
for
an
ogre
of
a
jilt,
and
she
herself
perhaps
opposite
me
making
me
blush
perpetually
to
recall
our
one-time
passionate
kisses,
our
love
letters
and
our
execrable
verses
to
each
other!
There
seemed
dreadful
possibilities
in
such
an
adventure.
Yet
I
badly
wanted
to
experience
the
piquant
situation.
At
7
p.m.,
half
an
hour
before
I
was
due,
decided
on
strong
measures.
I
entered
a
pub
and
took
a
stiff
whisky
and
soda,
and
then
set
off
with
a
stout
heart
to
take
the
icy
family
by
storm--and
if
need
be
live
down
my
evil
reputation
by
my
amiability
and
urbanity!
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