Thursday
Scudding clouds and came on to rain,
a torrential downpour by this afternoon.
Very cold. Busy all day going
through drawers in the Museum, having considerable difficulty in finding the
right keys among the hundred or so which we have here.
Mr. Gardiner came in this
afternoon at 4, and stayed until after 5, so that I nearly missed my tea. Talked a good deal of nonsense about the
Kirke pictures, which are mostly very bad, but which he regards as being
first-class. Yet he appreciates
Rushbury’s stuff, too. I dont feel I can
like him, but he is a mine of information about Wisbech.
Mrs. Shepherd seems to be in a
thoroughly bad temper tonight, the atmosphere of the place very strained. Just before midnight there were two or three
heavy explosions, which seemed a good way off.
Perhaps rockets somewhere near the Norfolk
coast. Wonder what is happening at Colchester .
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