June 26 + 

… I placed the volume on the mantelpiece as if it were a bottle of physic straight from my Dispensary, and I began to expostulate and expound, as if she were a sick person and I the doctor.⁠ ⁠… She seemed a little nettled at my proselytising demeanour and gave herself out to be very preoccupied⁠—or at any rate quite uninterested in my physic. I read the book last night at one sitting and was boiling over with it. + 

“I fear I have come at an inconvenient time,” I said, with a sardonic smile and strummed on the piano.⁠ ⁠… “I must really be off. Please read it (which sounded like ‘three times a day after meals’) and tell me how you like it. (Facetiously.) Of course don’t give up your present manual for it, that would be foolish and unnecessary.”⁠ ⁠… I rambled on⁠—disposed to be very playful. + 

At last calmly and horribly, in a thoughtful voice she answered⁠— + 

“I think you are very rude; you play the piano after I asked you to stop and walk about just as if it were your own home.” + 

I remained outwardly calm but inwardly was very surprised and full of tremors. I said after a pause⁠— + 

“Very well, if you think so.⁠ ⁠… Goodbye.” + 

No answer; and I was too proud to apologise. + 

“Goodbye,” I repeated. + 

She went on reading her novel in silence while I got as far as the door⁠—very upset. + 

“Au revoir.” + 

No answer. + 

“Oh,” said I, and went out of the room leaving my lady for good and all and I’m not sorry. + 

In the passage met Miss ⸻. “What?” she said, “going already?” + 

“Farewell,” I said sepulchrally. “A very tragic farewell,” which left her wondering. + 