Up at 8.15 again. Hugo is chasing round the bedroom and he certainly inspires one to leap out and face the day in the face. Go with one of the men, Bill, to a beautiful place in St Leonard's Hill, Windsor, where the old dear, Mrs England, lives in splendour. She has a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce, etc. Work from 9 till 1, then from 2 to nearly 5.30. A glorious day without a cloud in the sky. Bill brings me back and Sheila arrives simultaneously. I am infuriated by a call received on the tape/telephone receiver thingy from Mrs England saying Bill and I are: 'Two youths, who are so slow it just isn't true.' The silly old cow will not have the pleasure of my services again! Uncle J rings her back but agrees with Sheila and me that she has a complex about young people.
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