(Sneers and Curtain.)
February 24.
H—— came home last night and told me that she said as he came away, "Tell W—— I hate him." So it's all right. I shall go over to-morrow again—Hurrah! My absence has been felt then.
March 7.
Came home, lay on my bed, still dressed, and ruminated....
First a suspicion then a conviction came to me that I was a cad—a callous, selfish, sensation-hunting cad.... For the time being the bottom was knocked out of my smug self-satisfaction. For several long half-hours I found myself drifting without compass or stars. I was quite disorientated, temporarily thrown off the balance of my amour propre. Then I got up, lit the gas and looking at myself in the mirror, found it was really true,—I was a mean creature, wholly absorbed in self.
As an act of contrition, I ought to have gone out into the garden and eaten worms. But the mirror brought back my self-consciousness and I began to crawl back into my recently discarded skin—I began to be less loathesome to myself. For as soon as I felt interested or amused or curious over the fact that I had been really loathesome to myself I began to regain my equilibrium. Now, I and myself are on comparatively easy terms with one another. I am settled on the old swivel.... I take a lot of knocking off it and if shot off soon return.
To-day, she was silent and melancholy but wonderfully fascinating. One day I am desperate and the next cold and apathetic. Am I in love? God knows! She came to the door to say "Good night," and I deliberately strangled my desire to say something.
March 9.
In bed till 12.30 reading Bergson and the O.T.