Mummery

arles Mann to his wi

d in provincial centres, and he had been insulted by an offer to play a part in a forthcoming production of King Lear at the Imperium Theatre. He had forgotten th

on I am receiving in the Press and wa

and see him,' s

lace to come

and se

you r

lway

kind offer the other day, my refusal was as private as your suggestion. I can only conclude that some mistake has be

o much of the

Later on the Press wi

ooked d

now, and I'm afraid of it. It is just a great big machine, and there's n

o peace until

at the top. I wanted to come ov

freedom in Paris is

to the papers and sitting on comm

en years. I can carry on wi

don't stop believ

never d

for you to begin believing in w

my dear. You see

f letters, who, intrigued by the remarkable couple, had called once or twice and had invited Clara to her house, where the foreign-bred girl for the first time encountered the muffins and tea element of London life, which is its best and most characteristic. It seemed to her that, if Charles would not accept that, he would never be reconciled to his native country as she wanted him to be. There was about the muffins and tea in a cosy drawing-room a serenity which had always been to her the distinguishing mark of Englishmen abroad. It had been in her grandfather'

addeningly literal way. She understood what he meant, but very often she found that his utterances were translated into terms of money or politics or the commercial theatre,

given to himself and then with childlike innocence accepted as a thing done in his honour-the first clear si

erary men, journalists of both sexes, idealists of both sexes, arrivists, careerists, everybody who had ever pleaded publicly for the theatre as a vehicle of art. Professor Laverock declared it to be Mann's mission to open the theatre to the musician, the poet, and the painter, and, if he might express his secret hope, to close it to the actor. There were many speeches, but Clara sat thr

sat, he was chatting gaily to his neighbour and seemed to be unaware of any omission. She heard a man near her say, 'I did hope he was going to be indiscr

people,' he said, as they walked home, 'such

ou're horrible,' cried C

tter?' he asked, u

d. 'People have only to be nice to you

with you

so pleased! Do lose your temper w

were nic

were only there because they think you may succ

so much that you forget

. I have to see through you to r

m a pers

. You reflect

e not wo

ly you would be yourself to th

O

painful that, left to himself, he avoided it altogether.... He walked along moodily. They were

nd that you, like all the rest, have only seen your own reflection in me.... That's

y that if it wer

y and lively except they two, so that he talked to her, and seemed to have been talking for ever and had no idea of ever ceasing to do so. And then he told her how better than even talki

at the farthest end of love from that, something entirely new, so new as

id she, 'because

d. 'I thought that was p

until the enchantment came again. Without it there were moments when he seemed just ridiculous with his masses of papers, and Mr Clott, and his fussy insistence on being a great artist.... It was a keen pleasure to her to bring him back suddenly to physical things like food and clothes and to care for him. Sometimes he would forget everything except food and clothes,

I know I can, and I will.' And when she was in these fierce passions she used to remem

t look round and see if there aren'

it she could not help herself, but had to sacrifice everything, friends, possessions, even love. And as time went on, she realised that it was not Cha

ignored. She came then to his thoughts, and here she was baffled because she knew so little of his history. Beyond his thoughts lay that in which she was passionately interested, but between her and it d

act, but without that he was careless, indifferent, forgetful, although when she saw him again it was as though he had neve

e. This was too far from what she wanted, and she could not see how it could lead to it; there was altogether too much talk. What he said wa

'but we are spending far more than th

men interested

ke money, they wo

r him, and he retired puzzled and

r to look for hidden motives in those who supported him, and that he was concealing anything or had anything to conceal never crossed his mind! He had other things to think of, always new things, new plans, new schemes, and he was fundamentally not interested in himself. A charming face, a lovely cloud in the sky, the scent of a flower, a glass of good wine could give him such delight as made him beam upon the world and find all things good. It was alw

id of him! He went to bed singing, and singing he awoke in the morning, but in her heart Clara was anxious and suspicious of London, most suspicious of the artists and literary men who thronged the house, and gathered a

magnificently, 'and the meanes

You cheapen yourself. Besides it is a waste of time....

you in revo

have got. It isn't worth while to spend m

y to do anything for

ey think all sorts of wonderful thi

Hasn't it been

us.

xhibition a g

es

well

g the last ten years. It is the work you are do

than forty letters a day. And I have just

oing to

when they se

coming to London. In Paris he had made marvellous designs. Artists h

s, or margarine, wishes to make reparation through art.... Michael Angelo had a patron and

ld the Sistine

N-o,' he

s, and there aren't great public works for artists to do. Michael Angelo was an engi

e architects to do it?' He

t your own theories as well.... People want

though I had

sy for the kind of people who come here. It cos

hick. I'm a great deal more

sing to leave the room, 'because, i

question of time. My book is not out yet. We are arranging for the re

ing to learn acting, and I'm going on the stage to find out what the theatre is like

ed and, with her eyes blazing, told him that she intended to make her own ca

aper, and drawing designs on paper, and now with all these columns about you in the papers you look l

o pas

told me that. He spent his life travelling and reading old books-running away from it.

his been simmer

living our own lives at all, but the lives dictated to us by this r

les submissively. 'Wha

your appointment wit

ed a lo

tre, and you've got to make the best of it. I dare say Mich