I took a walk round the garden three or four times feeling the need of fresh air. On returning
Gowing noticed I was not smoking: offered me another cigar which I politely declined. Gowing
began his usual sniffing so anticipating him I said: "You're not going to complain of the smell of
paint again?" He said: "No not this time; but I'll tell you what I distinctly smell dry rot." I don't often
make jokes but I replied: "You're talking a lot of dry rot yourself." I could not help roaring at this
and Carrie said her sides quite ached with laughter. I never was so immensely tickled by anything
I have ever said before. I actually woke up twice during the night and laughed till the bed shook.