inent--the coastguard is
practically powerless--and we will be picked clean. In spite of the news
F absolutely refuses to set a definite date. Kept my temper with
difficulty.

Came home to be annoyed by Mrs H telling me K, one of the housemaids,
had been got into trouble by an undergardener. Asked Mrs H whether or
not it wasnt her function as a housekeeper to take care of such details.
Mrs H very tart, said in normal times she was perfectly capable of
handling the situation, but with everything going to pieces she didnt
know whether to turn off K or the undergardener, or both, or neither. I
thought her attitude toward me symptomatic of the general slackness and
demoralization setting in all over. Instructed her to discharge them
both and not bother me again with such trivia. Tried to phone the PM,
but the line was down. Another symptom.

As a sort of refuge, went to the library and wrote for four solid hours,
relating the origin of the Grass. Feeling much better afterwards, rang
for Mrs H and told her merely to give K a leave of absence and discharge
only the guilty undergardener. I could see she didnt approve my
leniency.

_July 16_: A maniac somehow got into The Ivies and forced his way into
the library where I was writing. A horrible looking fellow, with a
tortured face, he waved a pistol in front of me, ranting phrases
reminiscent of oldfashioned soapbox oratory. I am not ashamed to admit
nervousness, for this is not the first time my life has been threatened
since attaining prominence. Happily, the madman's aim was as wild as his
speech, and though he fired four shots, all lodged in the plaster. S,
Mrs H and B, hearing the noise, rushed in and grabbed him.

_July 17_: A little upset by the episode of the wouldbe assassin, I
decided to go up to London for the day. The library would be unusable
anyway, while the walls and ceiling were being repaired.

_July 18_: Shaking experience. Can write no more at the moment.

_Later_: I was walking in Regent Square when I saw her. As beautiful and
mysterious as she was last time. But now my tongue was not tied;
oblivious to restraint and ridicule, I shouted, rushed after her.

I-- But, really, that is all. I rushed after her, but she disappeared in
the idle crowd. People looked at me curiously as I pushed and shoved,
peering, crying, "Wait, wait a minute!" But she was gone.

_Still later_: I shall go back to The Ivies tonight. If I stay longer in
London I fear I shall