Thursday 28th. Slept splendidly. For first time for weeks without anodyne.
Wednesday. N. Schultz called. Very nice. To walk with me before exam. next Wednesday. Rather made me nervous with her pity.
Friday.... Letter from U. D. P., begging me not to hurry—‘if I fail it can’t be kept secret.’ Are they all in league to shake my nerves?
Saturday [Jan.] 6th. E. P. still in London. Glorious day.
Tuesday 9th. From 5 a.m. rather nervous—got better in day—and did 9 hours’ work. Good head all through—thank God!
10 p.m. How very happy or very wretched I shall be this time tomorrow! I really feel as if I ought to be able to pass as far as knowledge goes,—tho’ not brilliantly,—but I am in despair about Langhans, and in less degree about others.—Still they will surely manage not to pluck me for mere want of German! Yesterday I felt almost as if I should fail, tonight I hope I shan’t, but with trembling....
Eh, dear, if I succeed, how I shall (half) laugh at past funk!—if I fail, I feel as if I need never laugh again. (And yet, played patience half an hour just now rather than be beat—‘ill to beat’ not a bad motto!) And, if I’m not beat,—fancy this being my last night without M.D.!
Wed. 10th. Nothing from E. P. or A. C. Wonder if latter has come.
Very curious my sort of duplex feeling, (a) If I could only feel sure of passing, I should pass,—i.e. not being nervous. (b) If I felt sure—I should be sure to fail, (superstition!) A sort of unworthy Setebos feeling, I think.
Undertake for me!