Agitated

Wednesday, February 24th., Rue de Calais, Paris.

I walked about Paris most of yesterday, and bought a few reproductions and engravings of pictures. Perhaps one day I will be able to afford to buy originals. I was searching for ideas and have found from experience that the best way is to walk about and let them arise naturally. If I try to force them they either don't come at all or are second rate. Makes me wonder just what is going on in the mind. It's as if, underneath one's conscious experience, there is another level of thought going forward which, every now and then, intrudes into consciousness with an idea. What does this say about human beings?

Towards evening I had collected my ideas. I began to write at 9.15 pm., and finished a short chapter before 12.30.

Just now, as negotiations about two of my plays are pending, I am in a great state of 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. Needless to say this state isn't good for my health. Digestive problems and intermittent neuralgia. 

I had another letter from Louis Calvert this morning as to "The Wayward Duchess".