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VW Diary - 9th May 1926

There is no news of the strike. The broadcaster has just said that we
are praying today. And L. & I quarrelled last night. I dislike the tub
thumper in him; he the irrational Xtian in me. I will write it all out later—
my feelings about the Strike; but I am now writing to test my theory that
there is consolation in expression. Unthinkingly, I refused just now to
lunch with the Phil Bakers, who fetched L. in their car. Suddenly,
10 minutes ago, I began to regret this profoundly. How I should love the
talk, & seeing the house, & battling my wits against theirs. Now the
sensible thing to do is to provide some pleasure to balance this, which
I cd. not have had, if I had gone. I can only think of writing this, &
going round the Square. Obscurely, I have my clothes complex to deal
with. When I am asked out my first thought is, but I have no clothes to
go in. Todd has never sent me the address of the shop; & I may have
annoyed her by refusing to lunch with her. But the Virginia who refuses
is a very instinctive & therefore powerful person. The reflective &
sociable only comes to the surface later. Then the conflict.
Baldwin broadcast last night: he rolls his rs; tries to put more than
mortal strength into his words. "Have faith in me. You elected me
18 months ago. What have I done to forfeit your confidence? Can you
not trust me to see justice done between man & man?" Impressive as it
is to hear the very voice of the Prime Minister, descendant of Pitt &
Chatham, still I can't heat up my reverence to the right pitch. I picture
the stalwart oppressed man, bearing the world on his shoulders. And
suddenly his self assertiveness becomes a little ridiculous. He becomes
megalomaniac. No I dont trust him: I don't trust any human being,
however loud they bellow & roll their rs.