13 August 1934 – 19 August 1934

Yes, I think owing to the sudden rush of two wakeful nights, making up early mornings rather, I think I see the end of Here and Now (or Music or Dawn or whatever I shall call it): it’s to end with Elvira going out of the house and saying What did I make this knot in my handkerchief for? and all the coppers rolling about— It’s to be all in speeches—no play. I have now made a sketch of what everyone is to say; and it ends with a supper party in the downstairs room. I think the back is broken. It will run to something like 850 of my rough pages I imagine: which is at 200, 170,000 and I shall sweat it down to 130,000.