Had a good night, not so much pain. Ate breakfast, watching the pigeons flutter about in the yard. They live in a pigeon-cote fastened to the gable of the old “turnpike stair”.
Finished reading Katherine Mansfield’s Journal. Very dull indeed. Strange that a good story writer should write such poor stuff.
At the office found a letter from Meg MacDougall, without stamp or postmark, and a censor’s label on it. Luckily its contents were harmless.
When in Culver Street for lunch noticed that another emergency water-tank is being put up, against the cellar of the old house. Went down the cellar, through a hole in the ceiling, and found it still in good condition. Can't think what can eventually be done with it.
Back to Dedham at 6.30, then called at Stratford “King's Arms” only to receive a final answer that there was nothing doing. On a sudden decision went to the Talbooth, Mrs Roper’s dreadful place, and without any trouble got a room - £3 a week. I can afford it now that I am getting £4-12-6.