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Virginia Woolf to Lytton Strachey, 30 November 1919: 'I'm in the 2nd vol. of Ethel Smyth. I think she shows up triumphantly, through sheer force of honesty. It's a pity she can't write; for I don't suppose one could read it again. But it fascinates me all the same. I saw her at a concert two days ago -- striding up the gangway in coat and skirt and spats and talking at the top of her voice [...] she keeps up the figure of the nineties to perfection. Of course the book is the soul of the nineties.'
Sunday 8 May 1932: 'Here it is, the last evening [of holiday in Greece]; very hot, very dusty. The loudspeaker is braying; L. reading, not without sympathy, Ethel Smyth; it is 2 minutes to 7'.
Pardon my forwardness, but I must tell you I think that 'Streaks' is another what-I-call-a-book. In fact I should say it is better than 'Impressions'.