““Pamela’s prescription was simple: give the summer mornings to Cliff End, then, in September, go full blast at the book. Specious, but I knew too well that the longer the respite the more painful would be the labour of a fresh start. I began to fear that I might never be able to take up this book again. I was afraid that I might be undergoing one of those periods of transition on which Clement Forster used to dilate. Your entire outlook on life changes, he declared; you grow a new mind, and you have as little use for your former style and ideas as for your out-grown clothes. You’ve got to discover a new writing personality in yourself. I had actually watched something of the sort taking place in him, and it did him good: he got rid of a lot of sentimentality; developed realism, humour, and poise. All very fine in journalism, but it would be awkward if that sort of thing were to happen in the middle of a book. There””
