Much exhausted

 Wednesday, February 9th., George Street, London.

I arrived here from Monte last night, three and a half hours late, after one and a half days in trains and a steamer. Much exhausted this morning. I had quite enough worries and harassments on coming home, but the worst by far of all this morning is the news that my agent J.B. Pinker died suddenly in New York last night. Apart from the fact that he was a very old friend of mine, he had the whole of my affairs in his hands. There is no other really good agent in England. The difference between a good and a bad agent might mean the difference of thousands a year to me.

In spite of extreme tiredness I am off to Eastbourne this afternoon to see my play "The Love Match" which is, I hear, in difficulty. I am not surprised, and would prefer to leave it to its fate, but I have promised to go, and go I will. Kyrle Bellow, (or is it Bellew) has the lead role. I don't know much about her but she claims to have acted in films in the U.S.A. I have had a sore throat for a fortnight, and today I am really taking it in hand, sprays etc. In this connection my caretaker here, Mr. Tayler, is a marvel. He looks after me with the most touching solicitude, even coming to my bedroom last thing at night to see that I am 'tucked up' rightly. It is one of the astonishingest examples of personal devotion I have ever known. I think he may have been a batman in the war. I am taking him with me to Eastbourne!

The background bother is of course to do with the separation from Marguerite. Marie Belloc Lowndes, on behalf of Marguerite, is trying to arrange some sort of reconciliation. When I get back, and am somewhat restored, I will write to her and give a full account as it is evident that she has been taken in by hearing only one side of the story. But mainly I will tell her that she is wasting her time. There is no going back for me; it is not in my nature. Someone else asks me about the future of the Anglo-French Poetry Society. I thought only Marguerite cared about it. Well, it seems that the Committee has resigned en masse in protest at M.'s insistence that Legros be included. It will all break up now, without my guidance and cultural weight behind it. But in any case it could not long have survived the acute boringness of the performances!

Dallying

Thursday, January 29th., Yacht Amaryllis, Cannes.

I am now up again but still with a rotten cough. I have only had two coughs in about twenty years. The first was last November and this is the second one; bit troubling. It has rained heavily most of this week. For example it rained from 5 a.m. Thursday last until 1 p.m. on Saturday. Today is fine and I have begun a watercolour and may finish it tomorrow if the sun co-operates with my endeavour.

Sullivan left for London on Friday in search of a new captain, so we are more or less stuck here. Still, there are worse places to be! The weather hasn't interfered with dancing or dallying, and I have been doing as much as I can, given the state of my health, of both. Some rather attractive, though expensive, young women here. Good to be single again.

We have at last got an English engineer that I think may suit. He was second engineer on the Laranda (400 tons) which put in here the other day. He was only engaged for the outward trip on the Laranda, and was sent to us by his Chief Engineer. In the absence of Sullivan I engaged him last night. The dynamo motor broke with a great noise the other day and is being re-built; piston rod smashed. In the meantime the voltage is down to 20 (instead of 50 odd) and diminishing hourly. Candles. Lamps. Odious. Both the big Renault engines are going to be taken down, which is some job. Expensive business this grand cruising!

The seas here have been terrific and even today in this enclosed port this ship is rolling like a cradle when a cradle is efficiently rocked. I went out oaring yesterday which was probably a mistake but I was trying to impress a young lady of my recent acquaintance. I managed to row us around a schooner that was lying and rolling and pitching in the outer roads, but the oars were so heavy that I returned exhausted. And she was a little green in the face, so that was that; wasted effort. 

No prospect of us moving from here so I shall set out for London on Tuesday 8th., arriving on the Wednesday. I go to Eastbourne on the Thursday to see a performance of my play "The Love Match" previous to the London Production. I gather that the first performances have not been at all satisfactory. It seems about twenty years since I had a play produced, and this one is too good really to be a success.

Take the money.

Sunday, March 15th., George Street, London.

I had thought of going to Vienna and had told several friends as much, but I have changed my mind. On mature reflection I have realised that there must be more than music to a place for it to be worth visiting. In any case I intend to start preparations for the yachting season next week. The anticipation of time on the water is invigorating and how much more I will enjoy it now that I am quite free of domestic responsibilities.

This morning I spent an hour or so with John Lloyd Stevens as he set out on his journey to Central America. He writes well and would I think have been a highly agreeable travelling companion. Like many Americans in my experience he has an unfortunate attitude of superiority to black people; even when he admits that they display civilised qualities and manners he adopts a tone which suggests they are still not quite up to the standards of a white person. Skin colour was, and remains, a matter of great significance for Americans. I wonder if his attitude will moderate at all as his adventure proceeds?

My play "The Love Match" is the greatest failure that ever was. The first night audience received the last two acts in silence; the whole of the press was frankly hostile, and th public is sedulously staying away. The financial loss is running at about £100 a night and the play is to be withdrawn at once. This beats my previous record for shortness of run which was 36 nights.

On the plus side Cassells have informed me that they are enthusiastic about my new novel "Lilian" but wish me to modify two sentences in it for serial use:
a) 'I am going to have a baby'
b) 'I am seven months gone'.
What a world! Shall I stand on principle and refuse? No, I will take the money.