I settled downin Paris and began to write a play. I led a very regular life, working in themorning, and in the afternoon lounging about the gardens of the Luxembourg orsauntering through the streets. I spent long hours in the Louvre, the mostfriendly of all galleries and the most convenient for meditation; or idled onthe quays, fingering second-hand books that I never meant to buy. I read a pagehere and there, and made acquaintance with a great many authors whom I wascontent to know thus desultorily. In the evenings I went to see my friends. Ilooked in often on the Stroeves, and sometimes shared their modest fare. DirkStroeve flattered himself on his skill in cooking Italian dishes, and I confessthat his spaghetti were very much better than his pictures. It was a dinner fora King when he brought in a huge dish of it, succulent with tomatoes, and weate it together with the good household bread and a bottle of red wine. I grewmore intimate with Blanche Stroeve, and I think, because I was English and sheknew few English people, she was glad to see me. She was pleasant and simple,but she remained always rather silent, and I knew not why, gave me theimpression that she was concealing something.

我在巴黎定居下来，开始写一个剧本。我的生活很有规律；早上工作，下午在卢森堡公园或者在大街上漫步。我把很多时间消磨在卢佛尔宫里，这是巴黎所有画廊中我感到最亲切的一个，也是最适于我冥想的地方。再不然我就在塞纳河边悠闲地打发时间，翻弄一些我从来不想买的旧书。我东读两页、西读两页，就这样熟悉了不少作家。对这些作家我有这种零星的知识也就完全够用了。晚饭后我去看朋友。我常常到施特略夫家去，有时候在他家吃一顿简便的晚饭。施特略夫认为做意大利菜是他的拿手，我也承认他做的意大利通心粉远比他画的画高明。当他端上来一大盘香喷喷的通心粉，配着西红柿，我们一边喝红葡萄酒，一边就着通心粉吃他家自己烘烤的面包的时候，这一顿饭简直抵得上皇上的御餐了。我同勃朗什·施特略夫逐渐熟起来。我想，可能因为我是英国人，而她在这里认识的英国人不多，所以她很高兴看到我。她心地单纯，人总是快快活活，但是她一般不太爱说话。不知道为什么，她给我一个印象，仿佛心里藏着什么东西似的。