Saturday 16th February 1935

Young introduced me to another delightful place – this time the lounge of a Windsor pub called The Ship. White jacketed waiter, cosy corners, happy atmosphere and in one corner, a pianist and jazz drummer.

More beer at the Castle with Hubbard; then the three of us went back to the Ship until closing time. I had quite enough beer but not too much.

Leaving Windsor, I hurtled back to Thorpe, a very strong wind behind me. Seemed to fly effortlessly. (My mind and body were alert yet somehow, my eyes did not seem able to concentrate.) Silver moon, nearly at the full, made the world as light as day, only the light was of that strange whiteness that one does not get with sunshine. Clouds raced past the moon, shadows raced along the road.

At the Red Lion supper table I still felt semi-tight! Went to bed to sleep it off. I did.