The Conrad who Sat for Me
A cold thrill of apprehension passed over me as I opened the door to leave my apartment on the morning of August 4.1 Gazing up from the front page of the newspaper that lay on the threshold was the face of Joseph Conrad. Having left him a few months previously at his home in England, I felt that news about him was not likely to be good news. During the previous autumn and winter I had witnessed his sufferings, and since my departure the letters I received had but slight improvement to record. No new novel was forthcoming, I knew, to bring him so soon again into the world’s headlines, and another visit to America was impossible. I seized the journal hoping against hope, but my surmise was right. Joseph Conrad was dead.
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- 2.Walter Tittle, ‘Portraits in Pencil and Pen, III: Joseph Conrad’, Strand Magazine, vol. LXVII (June 1924) pp. 546–50.Google Scholar