ABSTRACT
Seal Cove contained a small intellectual summer community. Lassiter Troy, who in 1938 was in his early eighties, was the splendid, white-haired veteran of American repertory, a relic of the school of Henry Irving, who had performed across the nation in Cyrano, Richelieu and The Green Goddess, and was to many school children the physical embodiment of King Lear and Macbeth. The Troys lived in a camp, but their principal log cabin boasted an immense two-story living room with a balcony that ran around three of the walls, a huge stone fireplace and an alarming collection of heads and fangs and spread antlers. Butterfield Bay had been founded, as a summer community, by the same sort of people who had later gone to Seal Cove — professors, writers and artists — but it had been taken over by the worldly, who are always quick to recognize that the academics have a sharp nose for the loveliest country spots.
