Friday (28th February 1919)

Good sleep in a big bed with a nice little fire beside it.  Plenty of “good words” enframed on the walls.  They are arranged so as to take you by surprise.  You go into a little recess to have a wash, and are confronted with “He sees you”.  After a huge breakfast and a chat with mine host and hostess, I tramped back to M’s haunt.

Parts of the Moor reminded me of the gum-country in New Zealand, but it is not so dreary as that.  It is inhabited by fine little shaggy ponies, with very fat tummies.

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