The Journal of a Disappointed Man

September 4. Bathed in the Lake from the boat. It was brilliantly fine. R---- dipped her paddles in occasionally just to keep the boat from grounding. Then I clambered over the bows and stood up to dry myself in the sun like one of Mr. Tuke's young men. September 7. My 26th birthday. In London again. Went straight to the Doctor and reported myself. I quite expected him to forbid the marriage as I could scarcely hobble to his house. To my amazement, he apparently made light of my paralysis, said it was a common accident to bruise the os coccyx, etc. September 8. Am staying at ---- for a few days to rest and try to be better by that fateful 11th, when I am married. Later: My first experience of a Zeppelin raid. Bombs dropped only a quarter of a mile away and shrapnel from the guns fell on our roof. We got very pannicky and went into a neighbour's house, where we cowered down in our dressing-gowns in absolute darkness while bombs exploded and the dogs barked. I was scared out of my life and had a fit of uncontrollable trembling. Later we rang up ---- and ----, and thank Heavens both are safe. A great fire is burning in London, judging by the red glare. At midnight sat and drank sherry and smoked a cigar with Mr. ----, my braces depending from my trousers like a tail and shewing in spite of dressing-gown. Then went home and had some neat brandy to steady my heart. H---- arrived soon after midnight. A motor-omnibus in Whitechapel was blown to bits. Great scenes in the city.