Chapter 12

           December17.—AsIopenmyscribblingdiaryIfindthewords“OxfordMichaelmasTermends.”WhythisshouldinducemetoindulgeinretrospectiveIdon’tknow,butitdoes.Thelastfewweeksofmydiaryareofminimuminterest.ThebreakingoffoftheengagementbetweenLupinandDaisyMutlarhasmadehimadifferentbeing,andCarriearatherdepressingcompanion.ShewasalittledulllastSaturday,andIthoughttocheerherupbyreadingsomeextractsfrommydiary;butshewalkedoutoftheroominthemiddleofthereading,withoutaword.Onherreturn,Isaid:“Didmydiaryboreyou,darling?”

           Shereplied,tomysurprise:“Ireallywasn’tlistening,dear.Iwasobligedtoleavetogiveinstructionstothelaundress.Inconsequenceofsomestuffsheputsinthewater,twomoreofLupin’scolouredshirtshaverunandhesayshewon’twearthem.”

           Isaid:“EverythingisLupin.It’sallLupin,Lupin,Lupin.Therewasnotasinglebuttononmyshirtyesterday,butImadenocomplaint.”

           Carriesimplyreplied:“Youshoulddoasallothermendo,andwearstuds.Infact,Ineversawanyonebutyouwearbuttonsontheshirt-fronts.”

           Isaid:“Icertainlyworenoneyesterday,fortherewerenoneon.”

           AnotherthoughtthatstrikesmeisthatGowingseldomcallsintheevening,andCummingsneverdoes.Ifeartheydon’tgetonwellwithLupin.

           December18.—YesterdayIwasinaretrospectivevein—todayitisprospective.Iseenothingbutclouds,clouds,clouds.LupinisperfectlyintolerableovertheDaisyMutlarbusiness.