10 September
10 September
10 September 1920
Travelling to Menton, France
And here's what I would do. If I were you I should put it all out of my mind - make a fresh start, behave as though it was not. Ah, I know that sounds hard to you now, girlie (you don't mind me calling you girlie & just patting your hand as I do. I enjoy it - and the tremor you can get on girlie - marvellous) but Time heals all. Not with his scythe dear, no - with his eggtimer - my facetious way of saying his hour glass. Ha! Ha! Ha! You hate me I know. Well I'm just going. But one day if you are honest with yourself you will remember and you will say Yes, she was right and I was wrong - she was wise and I was foolish.
The figure on the bunk gave no sign. She lay on her back, her arms stretched down by her sides, her feet just touching the wooden rim at the end of the berth, the sheet up to her chin. Very pale, frowning, she stared at the spot where little monkey had been sitting, shut her eyes, opened them, looked again - nobody was there.
And the night was over. It was too late to expect anybody else. She shut her eyes again - a great loud pulse beat in her body or was it in the ship? In the ship. She had no body - she just had hands feet and a head, nothing else at all. Of course they were joined together by something, but not more than the stars in the Southern Cross were joined together. How otherwise could she feel so light - so light.
[KM Notebooks, undated]