chapter 2 Part 3

                                                       Diary Of Seraphina Doran

                                                                                          Thursday 12th July 1888



   Today is a most inglorious twelfth. According to the Times, in the early hours of this morning
the capital was covered by a light dusting of snow! I was as a consequence keen to check on
both Dr.Griffiths and the Lowensteins. When I arrived I was very much relieved to see
everything was in order. Esther and Laszlo were breaking for lunch and invited me to join
them. I told them with much regret that I must decline their kind offer, but would be delighted
to join them another time. When I entered his rooms Dr.Griffiths was, to my astonishment
immaculately attired in a herringbone tweed suit. He was sitting by the fire and told me that
the prospect of an outing had so cheered him, he decided that this afternoon would be an
appropriate time. I told him that while I was happy to see him so animated, that in his fragile
state of health, an outing was perhaps inadvisable. He would have none of it.
 "I have precious few good days Miss Seraphina, I certainly don't intend to waste such an
opportunity. Now, are you going to accompany me or not?" I answered that I fully intended
to accompany him, if only to monitor his condition. We both then managed to raise a smile.
 He donned a heavy winter coat and a bowler hat. His tall stature is accentuated by his
emaciation, which combined with such an unhealthy pallor makes for a striking appearance.
 "Come along Madam, where are my dark glasses?" I reached inside my Gladstone and
presented him with a pair of blue lensed spectacles I had managed to procure from a friend
of my father's that same morning. "Thank you my dear, We must be off and hail a Hansom!
  We found one outside the hospital, which is but a short distance from his lodgings.
The fresh air seemed to have a genuinely invigorating effect on him. I wondered how he
would react to the large crowds and loud noises. Far from being overwhelmed, the greater
the throng of people the more he came alive, as if he were feeding off their energy.
Once inside, he instructed the cab man to drive up to the West End so he could peruse the
shops. First of all we drove into Chelsea to visit the curiosity shops. Form an art shop he bought
two small paintings in the style of Turner. One a brilliant sunset the other a blazing ship on
a stormy ocean. He also took a fancy to a 2ft figurine of female nude called 'The Bather
Surprised' made by Royal Worcester and designed by Sir Thomas Brock. he paid a handsome
sum for her, though refused to specify how much. "Only the vulgar discuss money, Miss
Seraphina. Besides, the comfort of having her on my bedside table, with her ample
curves and tumbling hair will be immeasurable." While I concur, she is a fine figure of a
woman, I find her overt sensuality a little unsettling and cannot help feeling like a spy
when I gaze upon her. As if I am stripping her of her human identity.
Which leaves nothing behind but a blank canvas on which to paint one's desires.
  Mr.Griffiths then insisted we visit a furniture shop, from which he ordered two
wickerwork chairs, a footstool and a bookcase. He then stopped at a clockmaker's after
he spotted a French ormolu clock he simply had to possess. It was a model from the 1820's
done in Egyptian style, a tall black obelisk, with a large gold dial, crowned with a Pharaoh in 
a gilded headdress seated between two reclining lions. I thought it rather opulent and a
little gaudy, but kept my opinion to myself, as he seemed very enamoured of his 'Ozymandias'.
 Finally, he ordered a pair of brass candlesticks and a pair of bookends from A.Loach and sons.
The candlesticks are of a beautiful design with a square base, long undulating body and
ovoid centre. They are ribbed all the way down and will compliment his new clock very
well. The bookends are sphinxes, in keeping with the Egyptian theme. They are so sublimely
calm and aloof, the fall of empires and the onslaught of time, a matter of sovereign indifference.
   Dr. Griffiths obsession with Egypt is something of a mystery to me, though he seems rather
knowledgeable about the subject. He told me he was very moved by the myth of Isis and
Osiris. Of his murder and dismemberment by his brother Set and the frantic search by Isis
for his disjecta membra. Of how, in the form of a falcon Isis restored Osiris' broken body
and revivified it before copulating with him and begetting the hawk-headed god Horus.
  All of this sounded rather disturbing to me, but Dr.Griffiths seemed rapt with awe as
he spoke: " Horus avenges Osiris and deposes Set as ruler of his Father's erstwhile kingdom,
thus restoring the balance of Maat or justice." And what of Osiris? I asked simultaneously
fascinated and repelled. "Osiris resurrection was all too brief and he returned to the abode
of the dead to rule as king. I find the Egyptians the most fascinating of all the ancients.
Bodily immortality was essential or else spiritual annihilation would follow." He smirked
to himself, as he contemplated the irony of his own predicament. " Quite unlike the
Christian approach. The body must suffer degradation and nullification, in order to come
to the fullness of life." I replied that my chief preoccupation was with mending the
broken bodies of the living. If  he wished to have a discussion of a philosophical or
theological nature then he ought to consult our family friend Fr.Ignazio Garcione.
He laughed at this suggestion and said if he were at a loose end one day he would do
precisely that. I would like to be a fly on the wall for that encounter, as I rather suspect
 that deep down Dr.Griffiths is, like Lord Byron, at least half a pagan. Though he denies
nothing, he doubts everything. The best part of this conversation occurred while we drove
home in hailstorm at around four o'clock this afternoon. He had arranged for everything
except the paintings to be delivered, as they were small and light.
  When we arrived back at 13b, Dr.Griffiths placed the parcels on top of a chest of drawers,
before collapsing on the bed, obviously exhausted. His countenance was even more pallid and
waxen than usual. I didn't like the look of him one bit. He insisted he would be fine but I
suspected otherwise. Sure enough, ten minutes later he was sweating and in agony.
I had to assist him disrobing and help him into his nightshirt. I was rather taken aback by
just how skeletal he is. I told him he ought to eat more or he'd die from malnutrition
before any complication of his porphyria. He made no reply, as I think I'd touched a raw
nerve. Then as he lay back onto his mound of pillows, sweating even more profusely,
he asked for a morphia injection. I took hold of his arm and as I did so, he grabbed my
hand and said : " I know I've probably exacerbated my condition by neglecting my body.
    I promise you Miss Seraphina, Cross my heart and hope to die, I shall eat more in
future." I smiled and nodded before proceeding with the injection. He is now resting in
the arms of Morpheus and looks peaceful enough, though I fear he will suffer for his
exertions. 

                                                                   S.Doran