1–4 January 1920

J. prepares to go. Drying figs on the stove, and white socks drying from the mantelpiece. A dish of oranges and rain-wet leaves — a pack of cards on the table. It rains but it is warm. The jonquil is in bud. We linger at the door. L.M. sings.

J. left for London. The house very empty and quiet. I was ill all day — exhausted. In the after- noon fell asleep over my work and missed the post. My heart won't lie down. No post. During the night the cat picture became terrifying.

A load of wood. Sent review. Cold day. Miss S. called — deadly dull. Her yawn and recovery. Storm of wind and rain. I had nightmare about J. He and I * separated/ Miss S. talked about tulips, but she makes all sound so fussy : the threads of her soul all ravelled.

Cold, wet, windy, terrible weather. Fought it all day. Horribly depressed. D. came to tea ; but it was no good. Worked. Two wires from J. According to promise. I cannot write. The jonquils are out, weak and pale. Black clouds pull over. Immediately the sun goes in I am overcome — again the black fit takes me. I hate the sea. There is naught to do but work. But how can I work when this awful weakness makes even the pen like a walking* stick?