Charming

Saturday, November 11th., Cadogan Square, London.

I have made a decent start to my new novel "Imperial Palace". It will be 150,000 words long, and not divided into parts. I think I have now grown out of dividing novels into parts. Today such a division strikes me as being a bit pompous. I know the main plot but by no means all the incidents thereof, though I have a few titbits of episodes which I shall not omit.

An amusing titbit came my way recently, but I do not intend to use it in the novel. A youngish Canadian ex-soldier had become interested in a charming blonde English girl who served in some capacity in a country house where a friend of mine was staying. So interested that he offered to give her a day's jaunt in London. She accepted. They went. "First Class and everything." Return tickets. In the First Class carriage was a small boy travelling alone. The child cried all the time. The charming blonde took no notice whatever of the child, made no attempt to sympathise with him in any way. The Canadian waited and waited for her to behave to the forlorn child as a kind-hearted woman should. In vain. At Waterloo he said laconaically to the charmer: "here's your return ticket." And walked off and left her. He could not stand a woman like that, be she ever so charming!