Thick fog early in the morning, but cleared away by eleven o’clock. Then a bright sunny day.
Tonight, when coming up town, I noticed a prayer meeting by the corner of the Abbey Wall in Stanwell Street, the preacher and his circle standing in deep shadow, only his hands and prayer-book catching the moonlight as he moved. His harsh voice rang out in the frosty air, as unheeding soldiers walked down towards the town.
Felt very queer in the head tonight.
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