Well, here I am at last. A dream fulfilled. A reality still to experience.
I left the Rue de Calais yesterday, depressed, at 5 pm. after having lunched with Chichi. Was my depression due to leaving her behind? Or to do with the fact that she was quite evidently not so concerned that I was leaving her behind; perhaps I had hoped to be missed? I think our relationship has now run its course and I am grateful for it; my intimate knowledge of the ways of women having been increased immeasurably.
The drive to the Gare de Lyon along the interminable length of the Rue de Rivoli got on my nerves. And I was decidedly excited and 'wrought up' when the train de luxe came up and I saw Phillpotts. Much talking and mutual satisfaction, continued on the train. I have a sore throat now! The train left sharp at 6 pm. and arrived here at Menton sharp at 9.56 this morning. On the whole a really good sound train. It would be almost perfect if it had a drawing-room car, as it certainly ought to have. The ceaseless noise and jolting did not noticeably affect me much. I took a sedative and slept very well, though mostly conscious of the action and the din.
Coming along the coast I had my first glimpse of Monte Carlo and the salons thereof. I was duly impressed by the beauty of the coast, and of Menton in particular. But my thoughts were chiefly occupied with the idea of the train, that luxurious complete entity - running through a country and ignoring it. I seldom had the least idea where the train was. Space, as a notion, had vanished for me. I might have been in the void.And now four weeks of new impressions, new people, and new air to look forward to. Of course we have a good deal of work to do, but there will be time enough, I am determined. I can hardly believe I am here.
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