Wednesday 9th August 1939

Jacko and George have been fearfully concerned about the break between Mary and I.
Today, following a message from George, I called on Mary once more. She said she’d changed her mind and that I could see her again if I liked. She’d felt miserable since we parted and this seemed unnecessary so she would risk being hurt later on, unless I’d changed my mind. Like a fool and a blighter, I said I hadn’t changed in the least.

One honest thing about SJD among many less enviable traits – he realises his caddishness and does not attempt to minimise it or deceive himself!

I met her in the evening – now in the teeth of opposition from her parents – and we went to the ford near Danbury where I sat one wet afternoon and wrote my diary. Rain dripped sadly from the trees there tonight, also.

Had a drink at a Danbury pub – to “Us!” She said perhaps she’d be able to deceive her parents about seeing me – she who is so terribly honest and truthful. She “lit a candle” for me in the Catholic fashion the other night. Apparently, whilst the candle burns, all ones prayers ascend to God. She prayed that when he did get married he’d be happy. (Happier than he deserved, she should have said.)