_. This morning Ally felt like death. I was generally boisterous. Neither did I suffer throughout the day, and praised the Almighty for my safe keeping.
Out at 12 with Sarah to Len's Bar. Huddled together in the gloom on a Chesterfield sofa. I arrived home at 6 raring to go, but Sue & Pete plead poverty, and so we decided to stay in. Something is wrong with the telly. Everything and everyone looks a vile shade of green. Kenneth Kendall, reading the news, looked like a Martian. I lay on the sofa, and slipped into a coma, with an Agatha Christie novel covering my Adonis features.
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