Thursday 24th September 1936

Cycle ride through Windsor Park with Gwyn. Wickedly around the Water, by footpath. Occasional rain. Near the spot where I first tried to kiss her, we sat on a fence under a tree, with a noisy streamlet just below. (Also just here, a bit less than 18 months ago, I sat with Peggy, smoking cigarettes and discussing our cousinly affection for each other.)

Tonight, Witch and I made a solemn pact, heart against heart, to remain friends until parted by two very different things – death or love. The parting shall be no miserable one. No cowardly letter writing.

“…At the present moment” Delicious! Only 18 months ago! I had to refer to old journals, to be sure. It seems so much longer. The experiences that I’ve met since then…