Another rehearsal of "Cupid and Commonsense" at Terry's Theatre.
I saw all the play. It exhausted and depressed me very much. nothing seemed to get over the footlights. The players now played too quickly instead of too slowly. Local accent all wrong, and certainly incurable. But the other people seemed to be quite cheerful and optimistic. All the surroundings - the manufactory of amusement repelled me. Women cleaning and whispering, etc. Cold. Oil lamps to warm. Smallness of theatre. (See also 'Cupid and Commonsense', August 30th., and 'Authorial Anxieties', Sept. 22nd.)
Proceeding regularly with the "Case of Leek". Today I rewrote what I wrote yesterday. Tomorrow I shall have finished a quarter of the whole. I am deliberately losing sight of the serial, and writing it solely as a book.