Friday, February 5th., Hotel Russie, Rome.
I spent a lot of the morning at the top of the hotel garden, which I had never discovered before, after having been here over seven weeks. Marvellous view over Rome, of which I made a sketch. I thought about my new novel, had quite a lot of excellent ideas concerning it.
After siesta we took a taxi and drove along dusty and dull and very bad roads to Tre Fontane - the place where Paul's head jumped three times after being cut off, at each place producing a fountain. There are three churches, and if they locate the fountains, Paul's head must have very considerably bounded. Two churches were open, both very poor and odd and neglected. In fact - no interest at all - yet it is a place one is supposed to go to!
Additionally for February 5th., see 'An intoxicating day'
The ski-ers started, under guidance of the Professor, and I and Peter
(Huxley's dog) kept near them in the sleigh. We met every now and then,
and I saw several fine runs and several falls. Dorothy was doing very
well. They were all enjoying themselves enormously. I got home first.
Dorothy said it was the finest day she had ever had in all her life.
Certainly a most marvellous day, even for me, with air, sunshine, superb
landscapes, and a universal clarity.
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