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Sheisinterestedinit,aswomanusuallyisinwhateverisvagueandmysticalandindefinite.10.50P.M.Thisdiary-keepingofmineis,Ifancy,theoutcomeofthatscientifichabitofmindaboutwhichIwrotethismorning.Iliketoregisterimpressionswhiletheyarefresh.OnceadayatleastIendeavortodefinemyownmentalposition.Itisausefulpieceofself-analysis,andhas,Ifancy,asteadyingeffectuponthecharacter.Frankly,ImustconfessthatmyownneedswhatstiffeningIcangiveit.Ifearthat,afterall,muchofmyneurotictemperamentsurvives,andthatIamfarfromthatcool,calmprecisionwhichcharacterizesMurdochorPratt-Haldane.Otherwise,whyshouldthetomfoolerywhichIhavewitnessedthiseveninghavesetmynervesthrillingsothatevennowIamallunstrung?MyonlycomfortisthatneitherWilsonnorMissPenclosanorevenAgathacouldhavepossiblyknownmyweakness.Andwhatintheworldwastheretoexciteme?Nothing,orsolittlethatitwillseemludicrouswhenIsetitdown.TheMardensgottoWilson’sbeforeme.Infact,Iwasoneofthelasttoarriveandfoundtheroomcrowded.IhadhardlytimetosayawordtoMrs.MardenandtoAgatha,whowaslookingcharminginwhiteandpink,withglitteringwheat-earsinherhair,whenWilsoncametwitchingatmysleeve."Youwantsomethingpositive,Gilroy,"saidhe,drawingmeapartintoacorner."Mydearfellow,Ihaveaphenomenon—aphenomenon!"IshouldhavebeenmoreimpressedhadInotheardthesamebefore.Hissanguinespiritturnseveryfire-flyintoastar.
