Fog and then sun. Quiet day reading. Did not feel very well. Dora Biggam here alone tonight and longed to start a conversation, but could not.
Fog came on again tonight, and as I was sitting reading by myself before going to bed, sometime before midnight I heard the unmistakeable sound of an aircraft in trouble, somewhere to the south. The engine was running very badly, and died away in a sort of low rumble. Listened anxiously, as if I was on the Post.