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[The following is from Malcolm Muggeride’s diary entry for March 19, 1942. He was newly arrived in Lisbon and waiting to be posted to Lourenšo Marques in Mozambique as an Intelligence Officer for MI6. His wife’s name was Kitty.]

Love grows as passion dwindles. Kitty woke up some mornings ago, there beside me, and said: “Only death can part us,” as indeed is the case. An American I was talking to yesterday, a Consul in various places now returning to the United States to retire, describing how necessary it was to him to get the next plane because his wife was ill and in need of him, as he of her—said: “We’ve no life apart. All strong emotion died long ago, but we’re like oxen which have pulled together for forty years.”

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