Sunday
Was glad to hear the sound of the
birds singing and chirping about 5.30 this morning, and the daylight was
creeping in through the cracks of the curtains.
Fine sunny morning. Had a
delicious breakfast in my room. Heard
Mrs. B. talking to the girl who brings the milk, who said one of the bombs had
fallen in Alexandra Road ,
and another in or near the Park.
This afternoon, reading and
writing, and then out to the post. Walked back past the Museum, with the usual
feeling of irritation at not being able to go there on a Sunday. Home to tea, which was most enjoyable. Mrs. B’s tea is always delightful. Afterwards went down to Elm for a couple of
hours. Mrs Coulter was in “a rare state”
about the attack.
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