June 11 + 

Suffering from depression.⁠ ⁠… The melancholy fit fell very suddenly. All the colour went out of my life, the world was dirty gray. On the way back to my hotel caught sight of H⁠⸺, jumping into a cab, after a visit to S⁠⸺ Sands. But the sight of him aroused no desire in me to shout or wave. I merely wondered how on earth he could have spent a happy day at such a Sandy place. + 

On arriving at ⸻, sank deeper into my morass. It suffocated me to find the old familiar landmarks coming into view⁠ ⁠… the holidaymakers along the streets how I hated them⁠—the Peg Top Hill how desolate⁠—all as before⁠—how dull. The very fact that they were all there as before in the morning nauseated me. The seacoast here is magnificent, the town is pretty⁠—I know that, of course. But all looked dreary and cheerless⁠—just the sort of feeling one gets on entering an empty house with no fire on a winter’s day and nowhere to sit down.⁠ ⁠… I felt as lonely and desolate as a man suddenly fallen from the clouds into an unknown town on the Antarctic Continent built of ice and inhabited by Penguins. Who are these people? I asked myself irritably. There perhaps on the other side of the street was my own brother. But I was not even faintly interested and told the cabman to drive on. The spray from the sea fogged my spectacles and made me weary. + 