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Friday, January 20, 1911
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It was a circus down on the beach this morning. The boats were almost turning somersaults. We had to put off shipping until the afternoon low-tide. 

Had a final game of tennis out at the Mnazi Momoja, and got three sets [[running?]]. And I ran damned hard, too. So did Mitchell. He was a walking bath when we finished. 

In the evening Vining and I went to Mau's. Elisabet and Albert. Gott, Wie Schon! It looked so more than ever, but I still think it's only the clothes. 

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Saturday, January 21, 1911
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Late nights, these nights. Wulff very kindly shouted over at his joint. Bibi Mau came along and stayed until 1:30 a.m. I was yawning my head off, and almost jumping out of my skin. Lobmeyer up and went at about eleven, but he had excuses of a wife and baby at home which I hadn't. I'll get even with Bibi Mau some day. 

I am kinder sorry, barring my anxiety to get home, to leave Zanzibar. It's a nice little place, and Mombasa isn't in it with it, that's one sure thing. My heart is young and susceptible, but I think I am still true to Aden. I wonder why. Not Benine! Perhaps partly Bella.