Spent the night in the chair, before a good fire. Wakened soon after midnight by the distant boom of guns, but did not bother to get up – too tired. Soon after had a very curious dream. I was in the actual sitting-room, in the armchair, and Mary Hulbert [an old girlfriend of Rudsdale's] was in the room with me. She seemed to be much older than when I last saw her, and her hair was going grey. I don't know what we talked about, but there was a frightening atmosphere, and curious noises somewhere in the cottage. Then the door opened and an American soldier came in, a dark, sallow man, with a handsome but very evil face. I shouted out loud, and woke up.
Bitterly cold day. No fires at the office when I got there, so went home for half an hour. Father suffering from the cold.
Back to Higham at 7. Terribly cold. Writing all evening, then slept before the fire until about 3. Looked outside and found the clouds had gone, and stars twinkled through a light haze. A ‘plane flew over very low. Went to bed.