Excerpt: … and held me in a soft warm embrace. I shut my eyes and whistled the saccharine melody for solo violin in Chopin’s Funeral March. I wanted the moment prolonged for hours. Ill-health chases the soul out of a man. He becomes a body, purely physical. November 29. This evening she promised to be my wife after a long silent ramble together thro’ dark London squares and streets! I am beside myself! December 6. I know now