Feel I’m making a horrible hash of it. Might go for a turn on my bicycle. May clear my head. Might try it. Will.
* * * * *
Have dined, and now, at 9 P.M., have again settled down to it over a pipe and a glass of grog. Am in a more hopeless muddle than ever. Trying to bring in everybody in a kind of wind-up appeal. But look at this,—
You, the snubbed, the unfortunate
You, the Lord-Undertaker,
You, the Lord-Omnibus-Conductor,
That doesn’t seem to run very well, but it’s the kind of idea I want to work in. Don’t seem able to manage it.
You, the Lady-Amateur Actor?
No, that won’t do! Shall never get it done to-night.
* * * * *