Women!

Tuesday, February 20th., Hotel d'Italie, Mont Estoril.

Grande Hotel d'Italie

I am still in Portugal with Swinnerton. What a relief it is to get away from all the problems at home. I didn't realise just how much they were getting me down until I got away from them. When I say problems, I mean of course the central problem - my wife Marguerite. She was quite beside herself with anger when I announced my intention to get away, even though she had suggested herself that I do so. The problem was that I was following Swinnerton's advice, not hers. The thing is that I still love her, but find her to be increasingly difficult to live with. No doubt she finds me difficult as well. I am! But she knew that when we married; it's not as if she were some inexperienced girl.

This journey has given me back my taste for travel. I would like to travel more, even with Marguerite if she were not so unpredictable during arrivals and departures from main terminuses. What bothers me about travelling is having two unused establishments. It does bother me, no use denying it. It makes life too complicated and it is too expensive. If we didn't have to maintain our establishments it would be as cheap to travel as to stay at home. By my calculations, Comarques, including interest on its capital value, costs us at least £1200 a year, that is £50 a week if we only live in it for 6 months. Sometimes it feels like the proverbial albatross around my neck. I am certain that I would be more content with a simpler style of life, but Marguerite would never understand my motivation.

The climate here is lovely. One can go out in the evening without a coat. One can have a bath with the window wide open. To bathe in a warm room is a great luxury for me as I am the sort of man who likes to let the water drain away before getting out of the bath. I am trying to paint to take my mind off working but the two watercolours I have done so far are quite awful. But, as Swinnerton keeps telling me, it is the process which is important not the end result. The hotel is packed with people for the carnival. But the English are not very carnival-minded. A fancy-dress ball is planned but I doubt it will be a success.

Funny incident with a Scottish lady, a Mrs Bartholomew. Her husband is a celebrated geographer. I understand that it was he who 'named' Antarctica. She has very narrow ideas. She began talkng about "The Pretty Lady" which it appears has shocked all Scotland terribly. It quickly became apparent that she had not in fact read the book or even seen a copy personally. But she knew that it was shocking. I simply slanged this dignified dame. I told her that English hypocrisy was bad enough, but that Scotch hypocrisy was far worse, and that the illegitimate birth rate in Scotland was much higher than in England. I told her that all she and her friends said about "The Pretty Lady" was not only disgraceful, but puerile. Swinnerton was anxious. A significant victory for AB!