“Rags are royal raimant, when worn for virtue’s sake.”
(I shall stop here and go down to the Pantrey. I could eat no dinner, being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian in his Trouble. The minse pie was excelent, but after all pastrey does not take the place of solid food.)
Later: I shall now go on with my recitle. As the theater was almost emty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during Act One I had thought that he perhaps felt my presense, he had not once looked directly at me.
But the hat captured his erant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture, it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting near with a very plain girl in a Skunk Coller, observed:
“Realy, it is outragous.”
Now came a moment which I thrill even to recolect. For Adrian plucked a pink rose from a vase—he was in the Milionaire’s house, and was starving in the midst of luxury—and held it to his lips.
The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at me.
Later: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchanse he to is lieing awake. I am sitting at the window in my robe de nuit. Below, mother and Sis have just come in, and Smith has slamed the door of the car and gone back to the garage. How puney is the life my Familey leads! Nothing but eating and playing, with no Higher Thoughts.
A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognised the footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman.
January 17th. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely refuses on account of Maidie Mackenzie’s gown, which she had to send away to be repaired.