Went to the dentist in the afternoon. Evening chiefly occupied in reading Le Rire. By my halidom, it is an extraordinarily interesting book!
November 29.
... I am always looking out for new friends—assaying for friendship.... There is no more delightful adventure than an expedition into a rich, many-sided personality. Gradually over a long probation—for deep minds are naturally reticent—piece after piece is added to the geography of your friend's mind, and each piece pleases or entertains, while in return you let him steal away piece after piece of your own territory, perhaps saving a bit up here and there—such as an enthusiasm for Francis Thompson's poetry—and then letting it go unexpectedly. It's a delightful reciprocity.
I dream of "the honeyed ease of the Civil Servant's working day" (Peacock). Yet the French say Songes sont mensonges.
December 13.
In the Park it was very dark and she said,—
"If I lose you I shan't be able to find my way home."
"Oh! I'll look after you," I said.
Both being of the same mind at the same time we sat down on a seat together when a fortunate thing happened. It began to rain. So I offered her part of my overcoat. She nestled in under my arm and I kissed her out of hand. Voilà! A very pretty little girl, 'pon my word.
December 20.