6 January. Crown again for lunch (curious about B—e—is she fucking someone?). Found her in kitchen. Old N-d suspicious apparently and sent her out for errands y’day when I arrived. Took her upstairs and had a glorious uprighter in linen cupboard—ha! She spent copiously. How I love her big fleshy thighs and bum, tho my current lech is for V and her childlike little cunt. No V this evening, experiment running late. Nearly returned to Crown for B—e but went home instead. Sent note to V to come to Norham Gardens when finished.
7 January. V arrived at ten o’clock last night, rather tired and listless, but after sweetened by brandy and kisses (kisses will warm up the coldest cunt) let me fuck her, a long voluptuous fuck as seconds are, resulting in spend for V. Arrived late at laboratory. D—d stormed into my office before lunch and said he’d had a note from a friend who saw me with V at Ritz at New Year. Assumed outraged aspect and told him he was an idiot. V busy all day but came by Nham Gdns after dark. Had her twice before midnight, very credibly, once from behind (waking her up), tho she would not spend. Slept like an anvil afterward, completely fucked out.
Violet sets down the leather notebook. She is dizzy; there are actual spots appearing before her eyes, in between her brain and the black scribble of Walter’s private thoughts. Another word, and she will vomit on the institute’s sanitary linoleum floor.
“Frau Grant! Are you all right?”
Violet staggers to her feet, interposing herself between the door and Walter’s diary, as if to shield the world from her disgrace.
“Quite all right, thank you.”
It’s one of the laboratory assistants, a young man with pale hair and earnest blue eyes. “You look white, Frau Grant. Quite ill.”
“It’s the heat, I suppose.”
The young man hurries to the tiny window and struggles to open it. Violet opens her mouth to protest, but there’s no voice inside, no will at all. She sinks to her seat and watches him heave at the sash, until the heat-swollen wood gives way at last and the glass jumps upward with a bang.
“Thank you,” she says.
“Would you like a glass of water?”
“Yes, please.”
When he returns with the water, she takes a small sip, and another. She is calmer now, her head clear. She remembers that night she came home late from the laboratory, when Walter was waiting for her. January the sixth, apparently; how strange that dates only become significant in hindsight. He was so coaxing and affectionate. He had a glass of brandy waiting for her, and a bit of cake. When he made love to her, so slowly and surely, she thought for the first time that she might actually be in love with him, that this must certainly be love: a man who waited for her with brandy and cake and made love with such amorous invention.
Violet rises and circles about her cage; she braces her hands on the window frame and breathes in the hot air from the courtyard. A little gust stirs her hair. She sits down and sips her water and opens the diary, flipping through the pages until she finds April.
This time her head is sharp. She’s reading about some other girl, some poor deluded fool who thinks she’s so very much more clever and sophisticated than she really is.
24 April. Delivered paper to great success. Banquet followed, excellent wine. Went out afterward with H—n and F—y, fine time. F—y knew of decent house nearby, very pleasing girls, found a jolly fleshy hot-cunted one of perhaps seventeen and fucked her twice in an hour (feat not managed since first night with V, and before that not for a year at least—thus middle age!). Slept a little, had her again with some effort, returned to hotel at 3. V asleep.
25 April. Woke with prick standing, by G-d. Lovely comfortable fuck, V delightfully accommodating. Managed an heroic spend. Afterward V told me she might be in a family way. The devil. Told her she should take care of it back in Oxford, she said she would not, the fool. Resolved not to try her again until condition is confirmed. There is no arguing with women in that state.
Violet flips forward a few pages.
2 May. V returned from Dr. W—w determined to keep child. No argument would move her, the wretch. Left in fury and went directly to Dr. W—w. What the devil had he said to her? I used very forceful language to make myself clear, that I might go to authorities if he did not convince V of necessity for taking care of things. He resisted passionately. D—n all doctors.
3 May. Devil in it. Message from D—d and trustees this morning. Met with them directly after lunch. That b—d Dr W—w has apparently told them all. Am to marry V and tender resignation; they will assist me in finding place on the Continent if I comply. Marriage!!!! D—n Dr W—w.
4 May. Went to see V last night. Secured her agreement, then hard and satisfying fuck on floor, tho she did not like it. Still in bad humor so went to Crown afterward but B—e out. D—n all women.