I sat with him for three hours and we did not exchange a single word. At the end he handed me, as he had done before, an envelope with money in it. It would have been much nicer if he had enclosed a greeting or a loving word. I would have been so pleased if he had.

Perhaps he wanted to be alone with Dr. G., who was here, but he should have let me know. At Hoffmann's I felt I was sitting on hot coals, expecting him to arrive every moment.

God, I am afraid he won't give me his answer today. If only somebody would help me - it is all so terribly depressing.

Today I bought two lottery tickets, because I had a feeling that it would be now or never - they were both blanks. So I am not going to be rich after all. Nothing at all to be done about it.

He has so often told me he is madly in love with me, but what does that mean when I haven't had a good word from him in three months?

If I had a dog I would not feel so lonely, but I suppose that is asking for too much.

I have now reached the happy age of 23. No, happy is not quite the right word. At this particular moment I am certainly not happy.