13 August. Another quiet day, and last night I went to bed with the key to our room tied to my wrist. Again I woke up during the night, and saw that Lucy was sitting up in her bed. She was still asleep, but she was pointing to the window. I got up quietly and looked outside. There was brilliant moonlight over the sea and sky, and the sea and sky came together in one great silent mystery. It was more beautiful than I can describe. Between me and the moon a large bat was flying, making wide circles in the sky. Once or twice it came quite close, but I think it was frightened when it saw me, and afterwards it flew away across the harbour towards the abbey. When I came back from the window Lucy was lying down again and was sleeping peacefully. She then slept quietly all night.

14 August. We have been at the East Cliff, and were reading and writing all day. Lucy seems to love the spot as much as I do. It is hard to get her away from there when it is time to come home for a meal. This afternoon she said something strange while we were coming home for dinner. We had come to the top of the steps up from the West Pier and we had stopped to look at the view, as we often do. The sun was low down in the sky, just dropping behind Kettleness. The light was redon the East Cliff, and seemed to cover everything with a beautiful rose colour. We were silent for a while, and suddenly Lucy said very quietly to herself . . . 'His red eyes again! They are just the same.'