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Updated: June 14, 2025
This is my entry for Aug. 4th, 19 . "Weighed Susan. 4 st. 3. "Met Jaffery at station. "Albanian widow turned up unexpectedly after lunch. Fine woman. Going to be a handful. Staying week-end. Story of meeting and Prescott marriage. "Promised Susan a donkey ride. Where the deuce does one get donkeys warranted quiet and guaranteed to carry a lady? Mem: Ask Torn Fletcher.
And once again pleasant self repetition of history Jaffery was expected. Doria, fresh from Nice, had spent a night at her father's house and had come down to us the evening before to complete her convalescence. She had wanted to go straight to the flat in St.
So when Jaffery asked me what in the world we were going to do all day, I replied: "Sit here." "Don't you want to see the place?" "The place," said I, "is parading before us." "We might hire a car and run over to Etretat." "There's Liosha," I objected. "We can't leave her alone and she's not in a mood for jaunts." "She won't leave her room to-day, poor girl. It must be awful for her.
Barbara and myself, who, alone of mortals, knew the strange history of the two books, did not agree with the press. In sober truth "The Greater Glory" was not a work of genius; for, after all, the only hallmark of a work of genius that you can put your finger on is its haunting quality. That quality Tom Castleton's work possessed; Jaffery Chayne's did not.
"Even we publishers have our ideals and our purest is to distribute through the world the works of a man of genius." So Doria having telephoned for permission to come and see us on urgent business, arrived at Northlands late in the afternoon, full of the virtues of Wittekind and the vices of Jaffery.
The last time he saw her, she was hopping about in a green jumper Barbara would give you the elementary costume's commercial name." " and yourself," I read. "By the way, do you know of a granite-built, iron-gated, portcullised, barbicaned, really comfortable home for widows? Yours, Jaffery." Without waiting for comment from Adrian, I went with the letter into the drawing room, he following.
Again she smiled. "I've no idea of belittling your profession, my dear Jaffery. I think it's a noble one. But should it be the Alpha and Omega of things? Don't you see? The real life is intellectual, spiritual, emotional. What are your ideals?" Jaffery looked at her ruefully. Beneath those dark pools of eyes lay the spirituality that made her a mystery so sacred.
We see that we might have said and done a hundred helpful things. Well, we know that we did not, and there's an end on't. I felt, as I say, impatient with Jaffery, although or was it because? I recognised the bald fact that he was in love with Doria to the maximum degree of besottedness.
"The whole damn thing seems to be waste-paper basket," said Jaffery, standing over me. There was but one chair in the room Adrian's famous wooden writing chair with the leathern pad for which Barbara had pleaded, the chair in which the poor fellow had died, and I was sitting in it, as I sorted the manuscript which rose in masses on the table.
The perspiration still beads on my brow when I think of the cajoling and bribing and blustering and lying I had to practise in order to hush up the matter. As for Liosha, both Jaffery and I rated her soundly. I explained loftily that not so many years ago, transportation, lifelong imprisonment, death were the penalties for the felony which she had committed.
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