November 26, 1944

Jerry brought my Port Said pale topaz earrings and bracelet, asking if I minded exchanging them for food. I said no.I was giving
them to June anyway and when I told her, she said she would rather eat them. Jerry said huskily he would make it up to her later but she won’t need jewels any more than I will after being in here.

Jerry brought coffee and we went out to sit on the big beams used by the outdoor choir when church meets in the garden. The gray and green of pines in the sun, a white lamb with flopping ears nibbling near its mother by bank, the deep dome of sky covering the blue bowl of our mountain valley; warmth, earth, and grass fragrance—it was a lovely spot and we talked long, ranging wide, smiling at some things. Jerry grinned awkwardly and his voice broke as he told me he had dropped from 212 to 159.

I tried to make Bedie connect his history book with his own life here and his personal experience—what men have been moved by, how and why they act, in the light of his own thoughts and action.

On Saturday night topside, there was an introduction to a Japanese Nō play, with another one of Saki’s, full of gay lines, which brought laughs. The teenage group performed well and haori coats were the costume.