Friday 17th May 1935

Cycling along Chertsey Lane after being at the library, I passed a watch man’s hut. The man was familiar.

Later I went back again; twilight-darkness. The watch man tall and thin, was smoking his pipe beside the fire. It was the man Harvey and I used to talk with, in the old Magna Charta days. Old philosopher. Stayed there until eleven o’clock.

(Newspapers say this is the coldest May for 90 years. Can quite believe it!)