I am reading "Casanova". This caught my eye: "I have learnt by experience that truth is a talisman of which the charm never fails, provided that one does not squander it on rascals." What a motto for my "Truth About an Author"!
I cured my depression yesterday by slaving all day at our play. I did the sketch of it complete and posted it to Eden Phillpotts last night. I only went out for quite a short walk of about 20 minutes, just to clear my brain and exercise my limbs. And to eat. Speaking of which I have obtained a photograph of the Duval where I go for my lunch, and have sent it to my mother. She is curious about my way of life here. It is an enormous place and I always sit at the same table which I marked for her with a cross. I can imagine her sitting in her chair in the house at Waterloo Road imagining me sitting down to eat in Paris. Of course there are things about my life here which I cannot tell her about!
As for the restaurant it is good of its kind; and when I say a restaurant is good, I who renew my flickering life almost solely in restaurants, the praise is well-deserved. It is large, quiet, clean, well-ventilated, well-warmed, and well-decorated; the linen is good, the glass thin, the silver bright and the service rapid; the raw material of the dishes is sound, and the dishes are well-cooked and various. I have nearly always enjoyed, and never disliked, what I ate in that restaurant. In short, it meets with my hearty approval. And there is my regular waitress. I am prepared to assert that she is over fifty years old and that her waist measurement is over forty, but she has taken to me and I to her. Her dark hair is always carefully dressed, her gowns fit and suit her admirably, her features are agreeable, and her gestures show kindness and force of character. I know not if she is a wife or a widow. She is certainly not a virgin. Were I fifty six rather than thirty six, romance would be in the air. Perhaps I have read too much "Casanova".
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