Submitted by scott on Sat, 08/28/2021 - 10:05

Clara Clemens wrote of the house on Tedworth Square, Chelsea, London:

It was a very quiet part of London and Father succeeded in maintaining complete seclusion, with the exception of two, or three intimate friends, who came frequently to visit him. They were Poultney Bigelow, a Mr. McAlister, and two gentlemen that he had known in India. His work occupied him most of the time. He used to rise as early as four or five o’clock in the morning. Never did he write more continuously. I am sure he felt that it was his only protection against brooding on Susy’s death. …

      It was a long time before anyone laughed in our household, after the shock of Susy’s death. Father’s passionate nature expressed itself in thunderous outbursts of bitterness shading into rugged grief. He walked the floor with quick steps and there was no drawl in his speech now [MFMT 178-9].

Clara Clemens wrote of Sundays after the move to their rental house:

A Sunday in London looked like an array of misspent hours, particularly the quarter where we lived. Father would take Jean and me for a walk by the side of the river or into Regent’s Park. But everywhere we met an atmosphere of world-loneliness. Poor women seated aimlessly and alone on benches, even when the air was cold and damp. A stray cat, a stray leaf, a stray — Oh, everything looked adrift and unattended. It was on such days that Father created the habit of vituperating the human race [MFMT 180-1].

 

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