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Updated: June 10, 2025
"He prevented my doing anything," she said, frowning at the photograph, "except that which increased his comforts." I asked Kloster about anniversaries when I went for my lesson on Friday.
It is ascribed to the thirteenth century, but is very like those at Kloster Savina in the Bocche, which are seventeenth-century, the character of the floral design agreeing well with that period.
Because I might tumble off, if you please, and sprain either of my precious wrists. Did you ever. I believe Kloster regards me only as a vessel for carrying about music to other people, not as a human being at all. It is like the way jockeys are kept, strict and watched, before a race. Frau Bornsted gazed at me with her large serious eyes, and said, "Do you play the violin, then, so well?"
I'm very unhappy at being shovelled off like this, away from my lessons for two solid weeks, but it's no use my protesting. One can't protest with Kloster. He says he won't teach me any more if I don't go. That shrivelled me up into silence. Horror-stricken silence.
Now we will do no more of them. We will apply ourselves to real music." And he said I was to play him what I could of the Bach Chaconne. I was so happy, little mother. Kloster leading me about among the wonders of Bach, was like being taken by the hand by some great angel and led through heaven. Berlin, Sunday, June 7th, 1914.
If it weren't for him I'd have started for Switzerland yesterday, the moment I heard about Kloster, for the whole reason for my being in Berlin was only Kloster, And now Kloster says he isn't going to teach me any more. Darling mother, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but it's true. He sent round a note this evening saying he regretted he couldn't continue the lessons. Just that.
It has been going on, Kloster says, growing in clamour, for years, ever since the present Kaiser succeeded to the throne.
And his most intimate friends, the cleverest talkers among his set, two or three who used to hold forth particularly brilliantly in his rooms on Socialism and the slavish stupidity of Germans, have each had an order and an advancement of some sort. Kloster was at the palace this afternoon. He knew about it yesterday when I was having my lesson. Kloster. Of all men. I feel sick.
Just think, when I had my lesson yesterday Kloster wouldn't talk either about the war or the Kaiser. For a long time I thought he was ill; but he wasn't, he just wouldn't talk.
I feel as if my spirit were alone, the real, ultimate and only bit of me that is me and that matters. If I go on like this you too, my little mother, will begin echoing Kloster and tell me that I'm working too much. Dear England. Dear, dear England. To find out how much one loves England all one has to do is to come to Germany.
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