Good Grandma!
She wished she could live long enough to be present at my wedding ceremony. She prayed that she might select the marriage equipage for me.
I am alone yet.
I wonder if she knows—does her ghost peep from the grasses?—that I am drifting among the ijins she ever loathed.
I don’t see how to manage myself sometimes—like an unskilful fictionist with his heroine.
When shall I get married?
10th—I yawned.
Nothing is more unbecoming to a woman than yawning.
I think it no offence to swear once in a while in one’s closet.
I was alone.