Friday 12th July 1935

I’m writing this with a different pen, as the usual one is packed and on the way to Nottingham.

What a hot day – my burning feet! At last, all jobs done, I got to the riverbank near Penton Hook, threw off my stuffy plus fours and plunged into the coolness. What a difference it makes!

“He rides fastest who rides alone”.

I always put some little quotation, some little thought of the moment, on the first page of my diaries. If I were to also do this at the end, I’d perhaps conclude this book with that line of Kipling’s;- “He rides fastest who rides alone”, somehow, it seems to fit my mode of life, my ride through life.