1 April 1935 – 7 April 1935

At this rate I shall never finish the Purgatorio. But what’s the use of reading with half one’s mind running on Eleanor and Kitty. Oh that scene wants compacting. It’s too thin run. But I shall finish it before I go away. We think of three weeks in Holland and France; a week in Rome, flying there. We went to Kew yesterday and if vegetable notes are needed this is to signify that yesterday was the prime day for cherry blossom, pear trees and magnolia. A lovely white one with black cups to the flowers; another purple tinted, just falling. Another and another. And the yellow bushes and the daffodils in the grass. So to walk through Richmond—a long walk by the ponds. I verified certain details.