A Full Day

Friday, October 19th., Cadogan Square, London.

I wrote 1,000 words of a short story before noon. I then walked two miles and then drove to the Garrick Club. where du Maurier lunched with me. He practically wanted me to re-write Acts 2 and 3 of "The Return Journey". I told him I couldn't but gave him leave to fool around with the play.


Sir Gerald Hubert Edward Busson du Maurier (26 March 1873 – 11 April 1934) was an English actor and manager. He was the son of the writer George du Maurier and brother of Sylvia Llewelyn Davies. In 1902, he married the actress Muriel Beaumont with whom he had three daughters: writers Angela du Maurier (1904–2002) and Daphne du Maurier (1907–1989), and painter Jeanne du Maurier (1911–1996). His popularity lay in his subtle and naturalistic acting: a "delicately realistic style of acting that sought to suggest rather than to state the deeper emotions". His Times obituary said of his career: "His parentage assured him of engagements in the best of company to begin with; but it was his own talent that took advantage of them."

We reached the Ravel concert at the Aeolian Hall 20 minutes late and Ravel himself came into the vestibule. We talked a bit. I hadn't seen him since he came to visit us at Comarques in December 1913, so, of course, it was his first meeting with Dorothy. I wonder what he thinks about my change of circumstances? The concert was extremely satisfactory. It seemed to me to be all good music.

An offer

Wednesday, June 13th., Cadogan Square, London.

I was at the memorial service to Dennis Eadie at St. Martin in the Fields at 12.30. Sat with Mason and Miss Stevens. Then Viola Tree drove me to the Garrick Club so that I could see Gerald du Maurier about my (Faust) play. Gerald offered to accept my play without seeing it. I refused the offer; but promised to do the play as quickly as I could.

For more on Dennis Eadie see 'Mundane matters'

Additionally for June 13th., see 'La vie Parisienne'

I was introduced to Chichi, a young woman of the theatre, by a newspaper friend and she is often here. What a name she has! It is redolent of the very spirit of la vie de Boheme. She is wise in aspects of  Parisian life (really interesting matters!) about which I have been both imaginatively and practically ignorant. She has recounted to me several of her experiences of 'sexual perversions'. Apparently they always wept afterwards! Yet she said to me: 'Mais tous est naturel.' The force of this observation struck me. She tells me that she and her colleagues of the theatre smoke cigarettes in the dressing room though there is now a decree against it. This follows the disaster in the Rue Jean Goujon when a hundred aristocratic dead were left in the flames started by the overturning of a cinematographic projector lamp. "Everyone does it," she says, "but there is an official search of all dressing rooms, etc., once a month by the firemen, and before that an attendant comes round and says to the artists: 'Kindly hide your matches, etc., as the pompiers will be here directly.' " The extraordinary humour of this does not seem to occur to her. I said: "C'est bien Parisien, ca!" She cynically and bitterly agreed that it was.