September 14. D., G., [Dorothy and Gerald Wellesley] and I left Victoria at 11 for Paris. I was miserable because H. [Harold] had got out of our taxi halfway to the station, and had walked away looking white and unhappy. I wrote to him in the train, to try to console him a little. We had dinner in Paris at the Gare de Lyon (in Le Train Bleu, a famous restaurant up a stately staircase, with immense murals depicting French cities, an historica! monument]. We left Paris at 9 and got to Lausanne the next morning, where we changed into an ordinary carriage.
September 15. We spent the whole day in the train, reaching Verona late at night. I did not much like coming back to Verona ...
September 16. G. went out by himself in the morning to see Verona — and D. & I wandered out later and I showed her the things I liked, i.e., the Arche and the Gothic staircase. After lunch we took G. to see the staircase, and he destroyed its beauty in a few deft phrases, which made me angry. After that we went to see churches, and he admired baroque chapels, which seemed to me of an unparalleled hideousness, but I listened to his remarks on the baroque with interest, and, I hope, an open mind. We trailed about the streets getting hotter and more thirsty every minute. There were barrows of fruit at every street corner, and barrels of fresh wine standing along the river. In the evening we went to a cinema in the arena— a moonlit anachronism which was great fun. D. was thrilled. Afterwards, we walked about the streets.
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