"The Great Adventure" finished its London run last night after 673 performances. Perhaps it would have continued if not for the war, although in much of London it is difficult to remember that there is a war. But I am sure that in the minds of most people, or at least those who attend theatrical performances, there must be a tension when thinking of doing enjoyable things while others, not so far away, are suffering. I came home on Thursday this week to give Marguerite a little support.
Yesterday was the Sale and Show at Frinton that she organised for Belgian refugees. Total gross receipts £82 6s. 7d. and about £3 more still to come. Expenses under £5 I think. Opened by Marguerite who, during her speech, kept jabbing a pair of scissors into green cloth of table. Hall full of exhibits, plants, flowers, jam, vegetables and sundries; and of visitors. Hard to believe that there are refugees from Belgium but as I write this there are Belgian wounded, convalescent, strolling in our garden. Talk about Five Towns nonchalance. It is nothing to Belgian. These chaps convince me that I am emotional, mercurial and light-headed. Their cheerful calm is an absolutely staggering phenomenon.It seems simply madness to me that there are refugees in Europe as a result of civilised countries fighting each other. I am optimistic that the war will be won but supposing it goes against us. Where would we seek refuge? The United States?
I walked out to the sea this afternoon. Lovely. I went home for tea and wrote most of a war article and returned at 8 pm for auction of things left. This auction, worked with difficulty by a good auctioneer, fetched over £8. Young housewives hesitated to buy astounding bargains in fruit etc. The affair as a whole was a striking success.
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