I came to London on Wednesday and took possession of Apartment "C" at this Club which I have rented. Rather like celibate life in Paris again. Well, not so celibate in Paris, but bachelor anyway. What a relief it is, if I am honest, to be on my own, to do as I like when I like; I really don't think I am cut out for marriage. In fact I don't think men in general are. Our natural inclinations are to pursue whatever our personal objectives are to earn our living and to take opportunities to impregnate women as they arise. Not that I have any impregnation in mind!I dined here at the Club and read Macready's diary; extraordinary sensation of having resumed a closed chapter of existence. At the Elysee Restaurant the other evening (where I was dining with Marguerite) I enjoyed watching two nice professional girls dancing during the intervals. Of course I could not give them my full attention because I definitely do not want Marguerite to think I have any ulterior motives for staying in London. A young nut came in at 9.31 and asked whether it was just before or just after drink-closing time. He crossed legs and leaned on a stick before beginning to ask the waiter. Tremendously affected - the sort of person who gives toffs a bad name.
Caledonian Market this morning. I got there too soon and saw trucks and hand-carts and carts being wheeled up by all sorts of people, mainly foroeigners. Type of pale puffed skin, or pinched and full red lips. Some very attractive mature women. I went back to my tailors for a try-on and went to the market again at noon, when it was in full swing. I bought an Eastern bowl for my apartment.
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