Another day spent in penning my correspondence. The three of us sat in the candle lit parlour, Mr & Mrs Gamble and myself. Mr. Gamble reads his copy of The London Chronicle, Mrs. Gamble works at her sewing.
Mr. Gamble has attempted several times to engage me in a discussion of the American Navy and its chances against the Royal Navy, in which I have made only the most cursory of replies. Mr. Gamble has no vested interest in the Americas and can discuss the war with a sort of clinical distance. I can claim no such disinterest.