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[Page 495]

Wednesday, 10 May 1922 

I meet P.P., we go to tea at Quay and to Pictures afterwards. I am in a frightful mood & don't want pictures or "you'll miss me when I'm gone* rubbish. I stick it out in spite of a frenzied inclination to run away and leave her. We walk Home very cold in & out [indecipherable]. Gee! I'm put further and further away each time. It is distressing and I feel almost hated where I want to be liked so much.

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