2110-4-9-25

Rottingdean 56.

[ST: from Lady Jones (Enid Bagnold)]

North End House, Rottingdean, Sussex.

July 24. 26.

Dear John,

I have had such a good time with "The Dancing Floor". I have read it every night in bed, and it has frightened me regularly every night too . I didnt like that dream coming a door nearer, and got the Sealyham out of the stable to sleep with me. But she scratched, and eat her basket, and gave me such bad nights that I found it better to leave my door open into Laurian's room instead, for comfort.

Oh dear, I wish I could write a book that has a story in it, instead of drearily waiting for years and then slowly stewing out bits of overmouthed, masticated, fatigued sentences . I am so weary of the very idea of writing that I dont know how I'm ever going to do it again. And yet if I dont I never enjoy anything because I have a conscience all the time.

I am living in extreme seclusion, the garden thick with children. They all sleep out now, and at ten oclock you see them brought in past the windows of the garden room, - the butler first with Laurian's silvery head hanging helplessly asleep over his arm; the Nurse with the tiny baby, looking like a minute and drunken Roman Emperor; then the French governess, on pin heels staggering up with Timothy, his white cotton head sticking out over her absurd lacy arm.

I have enjoyed your book. Thank you ever so much for sending it and for writing in it. Oh what do you think happened at the bazaar! You sent your two books, signed, and Wells sent one, and Mrs Belloc Lowndes and the Ranee of Sarawak. And the people who came.... Carters and apple women and sweeps and fat mothers of families, sweating in black sateen. Wells, Buchan.. had they ever heard of them? Never! It was so hopeless as to be funny. They stared, as the auctioneer tried to work them up. They wernt going to buy a book anyway, and as for a signature they cared nothing. So I have kept them all.

With love to you and Susie

Yours ever

Enid Jones