Of course we went to church. The afternoon I put in writing this diary.
I often wonder what makes me write it, but write it I will. I believe
Mumsie knows already I’m keeping it. If I am forced to confess, I will
say I am doing it for practice, that some day I shall publish a novel.
I know Uncle would think more of me if I had such an ambition. Perhaps
it would be a good thing to tell him. No, he would cease then to be such
“good copy,” as the journalists call it. I do so enjoy getting him and
Mumsie at verbal fighting; it’s great fun.