13 June, 1889Dr BondAs winter passed into spring, and with no further killings, London had relaxed slightly. Jack was gone, the people whispered – either dead, or moved on to become some other place’s problem.For my own part, however, although the days were lightening, my mood was not. I did not analyse the amount of laudanum I was taking, nor the frequency, nor the fact that sometimes my urge to visit the dens was so overwhelming that I paced and paced around my house through the night until my legs ached. My anxiety attacks were increasing, so I did my best to battle them and my perpetual exhaustion by hunting more often, embracing nature and fresh air and putting all thoughts of creatures existing in men’s shadows out of my mind, if only for a few short hours. Juliana rode with me, and rather guiltily, I used these opportunities to question her about Harrington’s travels in Europe.It appeared that most of his stories were focused on a rather eccentric American he had met in Venice and to whom he now spent long hours writing; it was this gentleman who had apparently prompted James to be more adventurous.
