I read Gide, Claudel, Jammes. I exhausted the resources of Jacques’ private library; I took out a subscription to the ‘Maison des Amis des Livres’, in which Adrienne Monnier, in a long dress of grey home-spun, held court; I was so greedy for reading matter that I couldn’t be satisfied with the two-books-at-a-time rule: I would secretly slip half a dozen or so into my satchel; the difficulty was getting them back on the shelves, and I’m afraid I didn’t get them all put back.
