Dear Diary,
Today I tried not to think of Mr. Knightley. I tried not to think of him when I spoke about the menu with Cook. (Cook: Oh, is Mr. Knightley coming? Me: Why do you say that? Cook: Lamb stew's his favourite.) I tried not to think about him in the garden, where I thrice plucked the petals off a daisy to ascertain his feelings for
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