The Journal of a Disappointed Man

"Oh! he doesn't mind," she said. "He's a dear. He kissed me and said, 'Turn round my dear if you like.'" Isn't she tantalising? I wanted to say sarcastically, "I wonder you let him kiss you," but there was a danger of the remark reviving the dead. August 14. I tried my best, I've sought every loophole of escape, but I am quite unable to avoid the melancholy fact that her thumbs are--lamentable. I am genuinely upset about it for I like her. No one more than I would be more delighted if they were otherwise.... Poor dear! how I love her! That's why I'm so concerned about her thumbs. August 21. A wire from A---- came at 11.50 saying "Darling Mother passed peacefully away yesterday afternoon." ... Yesterday afternoon I was writing Zoology and all last night I slept soundly.... It was quite sudden. Caught the first train home. August 23. The funeral. August 31. Staying at the Hotel du Guesclin at Cancale near St. Malo with my dear A----. This flood of new experiences has knocked my diary habit out of gear. To be candid, I've forgotten all about myself. I've been too engrossed in living to stand the strain of setting down and in cold blood writing out all the things seen and heard. If I once began I should blow thro' these pages like a whirlwind.... But what a waste of time with M. le batelier waiting outside with his bisque to take us mackerel fishing!...