Monday, 14 March.
Departure of [the last Yorkshireman], leaving his women-people behind him. He asked for it and he shall have it:
“Thank God he’s gone!”
He used to stare at me till I devised the retort: closing my eyelids and yawning at him like a lion.
I think I must talk to Reggie about him some day.
Tuesday, 15 March.
... The hotel is filling up madly for Easter. There will be more here then than at Christmas. Help!...
Thursday, 17 March.
S. Patrick ☽ First Quarter, 3.49 a.m.