Tuesday, September 13th., Villa des Nefliers, Fontainebleau.
My old Gaveau piano went on Saturday. I sold it for 250 frs., the money to be spent on hiring. I got a Pleyel grand instead. I had to spend Friday night in altering the arrangement of the whole room for the reception of the grand. Naturally when it came I had to spend a great deal of time in playing.
On Sunday morning arrived the first copies of "Clayhanger". It is the best produced of all my novels, I think; but I could have spared the girl's portrait on the cover. I read a lot of it, and thought it pretty good. A few misprints. On reflection I think it does contain more sociology than "The O.W.T." I had promised this in the prospectus of it, but I was afraid I had not fulfilled the promise. It was only when Marguerite began to read the book that I realized - without her asking any questions - how full of difficulties it must be for a stranger, and how unlike the ordinary good novel.
On Sunday I at last finished a watercolour, of a flower bowl, that was not absolutely putrid.
Yesterday we went to Paris. Marguerite and Gabrielle at 7.24 and I at 8.56. I went straight to my coiffeurs, but owing to affluence de monde I had to be coiffed by the patron, who is not as good as either of the garcons, though good. Hence I was disappointed of my expected perfection.
Additionally for September 13th., see 'A visit to Berlin' - http://earnoldbennett.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/a-visit-to-berlin.html
Yesterday, before dinner, Max gave a full account of the rise of Baldwin. I wanted this for my first political article. It was a marvellous narrative and full of meat for me. All of us were enthralled.
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