Oscar Wilde in Gland, Switzerland.

Although he barely published after his imprisonment, Wilde did not stop writing - letters, I mean.
Fully half of the surviving Collected Letters are from after the trial, from prison – including the long self-explanation De Profundis (1905) – and then from the Normandy coast, or Paris, or Naples, or Switzerland, where Wilde finds himself trapped with the “tedious and unbearable” Harold Mellor, "...who is rich and pays for everything, but is also a miser. In the evening he reads The Times, or sleeps – both audibly” (1899, p. 1,134).

Someone should write a play about Wilde and Mellor.