I did not feel sorry for her. I knew now what had happened to her child, and she was better dead. What shall I do? What can I do? How can I escape from this dreadful place of night, despair, and fear?

25 June.- Until he has been through a really bad night, no-one realizes how sweet the morning can be to his heart and to his eye. When the sun rose this morning it struck the top of the great gateway opposite my window. The place which the sunlight touched seemed as if the dove from the ark had landed there. My fear fell away from me as if it had been clothing made of mist which melted in the warmth.

I must do something whilst I am still feeling brave because the day is here. Last night one of my post-dated letters was sent. This was the first of the three letters which is intended to blot out all signs that I ever existed.

I'm not going to think about that. Action!