19 August 1929 – 25 August 1929

I suppose dinner interrupted. And I opened this book in another train of mind —to record the blessed fact that for good or bad I have just set the last correction to Women and Fiction, or A Room of One’s Own. I shall never read it again I suppose. Good or bad? Has an uneasy life in it I think: you feel the creature arching its back and galloping on, though as usual much is watery and flimsy and pitched in too high a voice.