Lovely day, faint golden mist across the Links, as the sun came up. Horrible dream early this morning – I was mad, and everybody I was at school with was there, trying to tie me up with ropes, while I struck at them with a large beam. Knew I was insane, a vile dream.
Now endless nagging worry about going back. Mind seems quite weak, cannot force myself to go.
Richardson re work at Museum. Wrote to Father and Captain Folkard.