Tuesday 1 September 1931: 'And so a few days of bed & headache & overpowering sleep, sleep descending inexorable as I tried to read Judith Paris, then Ivanhoe. A note on Judith Paris: its a London museum book. Hugh bouncing with spurious enthusiasm -- a collection of keepsakes bright beads -- unrelated. Why? No central feeling anywhere [...] All a trivial litter of bright objects to be swept up. 'Scott: a note. A pageant. And I know the man [Locksley] (I forget his name) will hit the mark. So I'm not excited. Almost incredible that my father [Leslie Stephen, in Hours in a Library vol. 1 p.158] shd. have taken this scene seriously. But I think some roots. A perfectly desire surely to amuse, now & then ruffled (but oh how seldom!) by some raid from the sub-conscious -- only in the humour tho. Rowena, Rebecca, hairdressers ornaments -- Madame Tussaud sham jewels [...] But I think I trust him & like him better than Hugh. Question of morality. That we are all moralists; with a temporary standard.'