September 1920

The daughter of the watch-smith. Her piano-playing. Her weak heart, queer face, queer voice, awful clothes. The violets in their garden. Her little mother and father. The scene at the Baths : the coldness, the blueness of the children, her size in the red twill bathing-dress, trimmed with white braid. The steps down to the water — the rope across. Edie has a brother Siegfried. 17. You never know whether he has begun to shave or not. He and Edie walk in arm in arm. . . . Her Sunday hat is trimmed beyond words. Oh, that tree at the corner of May Street ! I forgot it until this moment. It was dark and hung over the street like a great shadow. The father was fair and youthful to look at. He was a clock-maker.