A bookman

Wednesday, June 10th., Villa des Nefliers, Fontainebleau.

I have now begun upon a modest but regular course of book-buying, and have worked up quite a pleasure in reading catalogues. I read through Gougy's catalogue of more than a hundred pages on Sunday. Also I have got into the way of expecting books to arrive; when I have ordered a book I am impatient till it comes, and decidedly disappointed if it doesn't come.

Further I am making a visitation of my books, and making discoveries of good things that I had absolutely forgotten. Thus today, having a bad headache, I found Merimee's "Portraits" and read the account of Beyle. Good. Also Freeman's primer of the history of Europe, which I have possessed for years and often meant to open, but never have done till today. I found I had a good Elzivir Livy: it must be one of the smallest folios ever printed. Cause of headache mysterious. Probably a slight touch of sun. I walked in the sun yesterday afternoon, and I climbed into cherry trees to gather cherries in the sun. No work this morning.

Bought a fine fourth edition of "Clarissa Harlowe", and a most respectable edition tres estimee of Pascal.

Godebski and his wife and Maurice Ravel, and a nameless boy of about 20 came yesterday, very late, for tea. My previous very agreeable impression of the Godebskis was confirmed.

For more on the Godebskis see 'Parisian culture'

Additionally for June 10th., see 'On the downs'

Before my writing today I went for a walk to North Stoke in rotten, very windy weather, and got caught in only one shower, from which I protected myself under a hedge. About four miles I suppose. Then after work I went out with Dorothy up to the Downs, and I reckon by the large scale map that we walked at least four miles and a half. It was all very splendid, with skies full of disasters and great distance-effects. This makes the longest walking I have done in a day for years.