17 June 1918 – 23 June 1918

The twentieth of June 1918. C'est de la misere. Non, pas ca exactement. II y a quelque chose — une profonde malaise me suive comme un ombre. Oh, why write bad French ? Why write at all ? 1 1,500 miles are so many — too many by 11,449^4 for me.

What is the matter with to-day? It is thin, white, as lace curtains are white, full of ugly noises (e.g. people opening the drawers of a cheap chest and trying to shut them again) . All food seems stodgy and indigestible — no drink is hot enough. One looks hide- ous, hideous in the glass — bald as an egg — one feels swollen — and all one's clothes are tight. And every- thing is dusty, gritty — the cigarette ash crumbles and falls — the marigolds spill their petals over the dressing table. In a house nearby someone is trying to tune a cheap cheap piano. If I had a ' home ' and could pull the curtains to- gether, lock the door — burn something sweet, fast, walk round my own perfect room, soundlessly, watch- ing the lights and the shadows — it would be tolerable — but living as I do in a public house — it's tres difficile. A few of its enormities. 1. I decided to faire les ongles de mes pieds avant mon petit dejeuner — and did not — from idleness. 2. The coffee was not hot: the bacon salt, and the plate shewed that it had been fried in a dirty pan. 3. I could not think of any small talk for Mrs. Honey, who seemed silent and distrait — burning with a very feeble wick. . . . 4. J.'s letter telling of all his immense difficulties — all the impossible things he must do before he could start his holiday left me lukewarm. It had somehow a flat taste — and I felt rather as tho' I'd read it curi- ously apart, not united. 5. A vague stomach-ache in my bath. 6. Nothing to read and too rainy to go out. 7. A. came — and did not ring. I felt she had enough of our friendship for the present. . . . 8. Very bad lunch. A small tough rissole which was no use to the functions and some rather watery goose- berries. I despise terribly English cooking. 9. Went for a walk and was caught in the wind and rain. Terribly cold and wretched. 10. The tea was not hot. I meant not to eat the bun but I ate it. Over-smoked.