20 August 1917 – 26 August 1917

141 a Church St., Chelsea. I came home this afternoon and F. came in. I was standing in the studio, someone whistled on the path. It was he. I went out and bought some milk and honey and Veda bread. By and by we sat down and had tea and talk. This man is in many ways extraordinarily like me. I like him so much ; I feel so honest with him that it's simply one of my real joys, one of the real joys of my life, to have him come and talk and be with me. I did not realise, until he was here and we ate together, how much I was really at home with him. A real under- standing. We might have spoken a different language — returned from a far country. I just felt all was well, and we understood each other. Just that. And there was * ease ' between us. There is a division : people who are my people, people who are not my people. He is mine. I gave him for a pledge my little puddock. When we walked out I saw the sky again after all the day's blindness — little cloud and big clouds. We said goodJbye at Vinden's. That is all. But I wanted to make a note of it. I. They meet and just touch. II. They come together and part. III. They are separated and meet again. IV. They realise their tie.