Wednesday, February 26th

THIS SPRING weather makes one dream … today great clouds shot through with light; so, just now, the ocean was dark with a long shining band halfway to the horizon.

The Julian Huxley I knew and loved is beginning to emerge again after the shock of seeing him, old and crotchety, last October. Yesterday I had a letter from a Swedish friend who remembered us one summer before 1940 at Grundlsee in Austria: “One of the most vivid pictures I have is when, standing in a group of guests in front of the verandah where we ate, I saw you and Julian Huxley descending through the pine forest. You were both tall, slender, dark, beautiful, and radiating vigour and harmony—an impression I have never forgotten.” I read this with shame, startled into memory of the good times we shared, how time had silted them over!