Still invalided, I sit & receive visitors almost daily; & say nothing about them here.  I am writing the first chapter of Reading with the usual fabulous zest.  I have never enjoyed writing more...For this reason, people are neglected, & accumulate, up & up & up: I cannot see them now...Clive is the most persistent; we talked from 4.30 to 10.15 the other day.  It is clear I rub up his wits; & in return I get my manners polished.  I hear of supper parties; elicit facts about drink & talk & goings on.  Viola Tree starts singing Mozart with a great hole in her stocking: Christabel 'a little lump of passion': Mary - mum; Shearman confiding at 3 a.m. his distaste for life.