Dreamed of a thriller where the world was endangered by a race of bees larger than people.
In the morning I visited the National Portrait Gallery again and saw the post-1837 sections, as well as an exhibit about bluestockings.
In the afternoon I took the bus to Lambeth and visited the Imperial War Museum. The new exhibit about Ian Fleming and James Bond doesn't open till tomorrow. (I wasn't that interested in it anyway.) I did see the exhibits of wartime posters and the World War II experiences of British children.
Dinner was spinach canneloni.
In the evening I saw Brief Encounter: Not the Film at the Cinema Haymarket. (I could have paid a lot less for my ticket at Leicester Square's reduced ticket booth, but I wasn't up to standing in line today.) It's a droll, gentle sendup combining stage and film, broad and subtle, straightly dramatic and comic and musical. Rather hard to describe, really.
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