On Sunday I had an idea for a short novel about an episode in the life of a French cocotte. I thought I could tell practically everything about her existence without shocking the British public.
On Monday afternoon, after doing my Daily News article I did my first water colour of the season. In the garden. Rather goodish.
I came to London Tuesday. Lunched at Webbs. Apropos of Squire's poem in current edition of Statesman the Webbs were both very funny. Mrs. Webb especially. She said: "Poetry means nothing to me. It confuses me. I always want to translate it back into prose."
See also, 'Understanding life' - April 24th. http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2013/04/understanding-life.html
Homan's and Alcock's. Two quartets and a quintet before dinner at 8.45. Good male dinner, with champagne. During and after dinner, we had from Norton the finest exhibition of story-telling I ever heard. I was exhausted with laughing.
Later W. Alcock gave several parody treatments of "Three Blind Mice" according to Haydn, Chopin, Mendelssohn and Grieg. Admirable. Werg and Hill played solos. I got to the Club at 1 a.m. and a half-dressed, half-asleep waiter let me in. This was one of the finest evenings I ever spent in my life.