Today I had the most odd experience. I was stepping off the coach, just about to alight on my doorstep when I noticed a man staring at me. He was of rather low birth in a faded vest, scruffy pants, ill-shone shoes, and a tweed monstrosity I could only surmise to be a hat perched on his head.
He stared so intently I was sure he was a chimney-sweep or other such servant, but when I paid him a shilling for his service, he didn't say anything. He only clutched it in his huge hands, until his knuckles went white. The sun was out, so I moved inside to avoid exposure, but when I looked out he was still there. He stayed there all evening.
The man was still there when I began morning prayers, so I sent the butler to run him off. When I left for the usual ladies night together, he had the gall to wink at me! I was so surprised, I went back inside the house! Who knows what that wink had planned?
He thinks I can't see him, but I can. He's out there by the lavender gate. He peeps at me while I sew. I'm sure he's thinking something filthy. His eyes are so low and sunk-in. I've phoned the police to escort him away.
What good are the police if they can't keep one man in jail? He's back, hiding in the Rhodedendrons. Squatting obscenely! The cheek! The absolute nerve! I can't concentrate anymore! I feel like I need to know where he is at all times!
The police insist they have him in custody. What do they know? He's right outside. I can feel him. I haven't changed in two days. He watches me. The maid tried to make me change. I've dismissed her. How could I trust her now? I'm sure she works with him. I fear she has let him in. Curse her treachery! She wanted me dead! I saw her hands linger over the silverware! She lingers no more!
I've boarded the doors and windows. The butler refused to help. He says he saw the police execute the man for murder yesterday. He's mad. I've dispatched him. I found some ash. I've covered myself in it! Let him see through that! They tried to make me go to Bedlam, but I said, "No! No! No!".
He's in. The house. The police are powerless. The government is in cahoots with the vagrant! Only I and Mr. Poker can fight back. His gangly limbs hold me. We are barricaded in the laundry room, but He knows. I can smell him. The foul desultory smell of satan! We tunnel to the food pantry, as we must have food to do God's work, but it is arduous.
Mr. Poker had abandoned me! He dove through the tiny hole into the pantry and now he is gone. I have taken the only course left to me; If I must parish, that bastard will burn with me!
How nice; I've never been to Germany. Today, as I was contemplating how to best rebuild my life, I saw a beautiful man walk past. I trotted after him, feeling compelled to stay close to him no matter what. As I stood outside his house, he came over and gave me a sixpence. When he did, I felt a huge weight lift off me. I think I'll sleep outside his house for just a little while.