Slanged

Tuesday, February 24th., Cadogan Square, London.

I had une espece de grippe all last week and wrote nothing whatsoever. Dorothy returned from Italy. 

The first (of two) performances of "The Bright Island" took place at the Aldwych Theatre on Sunday, 15th. The play was coldly received on both Sunday and Monday. The points were not seen by that portion of the audience which applauds. yet the play had succeeded at rehearsals. many people thought it amusing and true. I think that for one thing the audience was bewildered at the start by the strangeness of the scene, the "Commedia dell' Arte" names of the characters, and the political quality of the plot. Also by the even-handed rigour dealt out to both political parties. The Press, with the sole exception of Truth, who liked it and praised it and said it ought to be revived before a "more intelligent audience", slanged it like anything. Not partially but wholly. Some said that I ought to be stopped from writing such plays, a great mistake, deplorable, and so on. It was the worst Press any play of mine ever had.

My masseur, Fjellsted, told me on Saturday a story of how trouble may be caused by indiscretion. A great tangle of consequential actions deriving from a casual sexual adventure resulted in a horrid mess in two homes. The moral is, don't pick up girls when you are motoring, and, if you see a girl, don't be picked up. Also if you let a man seduce you, get at any rate his name and address. But chiefly, have an absolute rule in your home that your letters are opened by nobody but yourself.

Additionally for February 24th., see 'Exciting times'

Just now, as negotiations about two of my plays are pending, I am in a great state of secret excitement and have postponed going to see friends and asking them to see me and generally organising a social campaign, until something has been decided one way or another. I had a letter from Louis Calvert this morning as to "The Wayward duchess".