They wrote it this week: unexpected gaiety and a most unwelcome Catholic
Extracts from diary entries and letters written between May 13 and May 19
I dined with Claud at the Curzon Hotel. We walked there from his house whither we returned after dinner. He makes love to me continuously, but doesn’t offend me or ever seriously embarrass. He has a certain amount of magnetism for me, but I have no fear of its being “fire” I am playing with. It’s curious how much more capable of mild flirtatiousness I have become lately. He took me home.
Lady Cynthia Asquith, British aristocrat and writer, 1887-1960. (Her husband was away fighting on World War 1’s Western Front.)
Diaries 1915-1918 by Lady Cynthia Asquith, Hutchinson of London, 1968
1925, Arnold House School in Wales
Young, the new usher, is monotonously pederastic and talks only of the beauty of sleeping boys...