crossing the South-American continent, where there are neither fish nor eggs, save the eggs of condors and hummingbirds. . . .
Friday, 14 January.
. . . My bank-balance is overdrawn, but I make 19/6 at bridge.
. . . Mr. and Mrs. Hugh Martin arrive. I do not know if this is the Daily News' Irish correspondent whom the Black and Tans wanted to murder.
Tuesday, 18 January.
Begin Couperus' Iskander: The novel of Alexander the Great; two enormous volumes, which I may hardly live to translate. It is a great joy to see this artist building up his story with firm and elegant perfection from the very first page, with conviction and a fine self-confidence, no grouping, no floundering, no hesitation. . . .
Saturday, 23 January.
Need something happen every day at Ventnor? Danged if there need!
Monday, 24 January.
. . . The new rich arrive, Rolls-Royce and all.
