ABSTRACT
Seal Cove was a good enough place to write a book, if one had one to write. It was an intellectual summer community, full of camps and shingle houses, occupied largely by professors and artists, accessible to the excellent stores of nearby fashionable Butterfield Bay without any necessary involvement in the more hectic social life of that community. Felix was perfectly happy with his book and the long solitary walks by the ocean during which he would puzzle out his chapters. Felix’s “great banker,” Ridley Hammond, senior partner of Harris, Tweed and Sons, had an estate just south of Butterfield Bay in Jaffray Harbor. To the big, rambling stone house that he had erected on a rocky peninsula jutting out to sea he invited economists, political philosophers, politicians and, of course, his own partners. His house parties were more like conferences.
