11 July 1932 – 17 July 1932

I will take a new pen and a new page to record the fact which is now a fact that I have slipped a green rubber band round The Common Reader, second series, and there it lies, at 10 minutes to one, ready to take upstairs. There is no sense of glory; only of drudgery done. And yet I daresay it’s a nice enough book to read—I doubt that I shall write another like it all the same. I must find a quicker cut into books than this. But heaven be praised, not now. Now I’m taking a holiday. That is to say, what shall I write tomorrow? I can sit down and think.