Woke at 4, and got up. Very dark under glittering stars. Up at 8, still dark, and low clouds drifting up from the S.W. The glass remains high.
To town early, and did some shopping. Nothing from Wisbech – am becoming very anxious. Saw Poulter, and he obviously hopes I hear nothing. Went home, had a talk with Father, did not in any way show my anxiety about the job.
This afternoon to the Public Library for a couple of hours, going through “Essex Review”.
Went over to the Rep. Met the delightful Yvonne, who hailed me rapturously as “Darling!” Had a cup of tea there with her and Diana, and Diana got me a seat for tonight’s performance. It was first class – “Lady into Fox”, most excellently done, part of “Les Sylphides”, which I could with ease watch for hours on end, and the usual oddments, including the delightful “brothel scene” which I always enjoy so much.
If I don't get the job, I don't know what on earth I shall do, yet I cannot bear the thought of leaving
for ever. If only the war would end, it
would make a great difference in these things.
Had a letter from
Maidstone this morning, very sharp, unnecessarily so I
thought, asking me to take my pony and trap away from Wigborough. The Committee have had good use of it this
last year or so, anyway.
Went to see Poulter again after the ballet, and more talk. He senses now that I will go if I get the chance, and feels both sad and angry. Said he would miss me a lot. Tried to cheer him up by telling him I haven’t gone yet. He says
behaviour during the last few days has been quite indescribable. Maybe he has got wind of my plans – much as
he would like me to go, he would not like me to do so without his permission.
To Boxted 10.30, sat reading, and to bed at midnight. Fine but misty.