The day after the inquest he had been a little disturbed; he had not been able to settle down to work that day; he had wandered vaguely up and down the house, had sat in the garden a little, had rowed in the boat a little⁠—restless; and he had slept badly. But the next day he had worked successfully many hours. In a little diary he kept a record of work⁠—so many hours, such and such a poem, so many hundreds of words. All these weeks he had automatically made the entries as usual, and from Sunday, 1st June , the figures moved steadily upward. After the 5th there was a distinct bound⁠—seven hours on the 6th . June 1st was the day the policeman came⁠—the day he had told the policeman about John⁠—almost by accident, he felt. Yes; he had not meant anything then. And the 4th