There was a woman, a terrible woman, who had come back from Russia with what she called a 'message of healing'.

And to my joy, one night there was a great buck nigger who had a lot to say about 'Africa for the Africans'.

I had a few words with him in Sesutu afterwards, and rather spoiled his visit.

Some of the people were extraordinarily good, especially one jolly old fellow who talked about English folk songs and dances, and wanted us to set up a Maypole.

In the debates which generally followed I began to join, very coyly at first, but presently with some confidence.