Friday
Ghastly night. Never had such pain for years. Began to wonder if I had pneumonia, as the
whole thorax was tender, and felt restricted.
Rain began about midnight, and
was soon running in through a hole near the window. Felt too bad to bother about it, and lay hour
after hour, listening to it dripping on the floor. At last fell asleep for a couple of hours
about 6. Would like to have stayed in
bed all day, but did not dare.
To office at 9.30, and crouched
over the fire. Bought apples for
Father. Went round to see the Town
Clerk about the Town Library books.
He admitted quite frankly that he regarded them as valueless and said:
“Any books which are not read ought to be pulped.” He seems to be a complete fool.
Streets in a dreadful mess, full
of mud, water and slush. Saw an American
convoy, travelling very fast, full of bombs, going towards Lynn .
Each lorry had a red flag flying from the cab.
Went round to Edwards’ with some
books, then back to the Museum from 6-9.30.
Looked through a lot of maps.
Curious that although the Fens are remarkably well mapped, there seems
to be no plan of Wisbech prior to that by Wood in 1830.
To bed at 10.30. Old Doble says that he hears from various
people that the rocket attacks on London
are now very bad indeed, and keep up intermittently day and night.
Am beginning to dislike Mrs.
Shepherd very intensely. She is
incredibly rude, although allowance must be made for local manners, of course.
Thick tonight. No ‘planes.
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