time to come. I hope to see you around the end of March.

I think your Shakespearian play is a most wonderful work. I quite
appreciate all you say about its chances. I rather felt that a
Shakespearian novelty of this kind would be most striking if
produced by Tree on top of his newspaper claim of having lost over
40,000 pounds on Shakespeare.

I am all bungled up here. I don't know quite what to do about
London this season. As I understood what you wanted, I replied as I
did. You know how I hate to lose any of your work for anybody or
anywhere. Now you understand. That is splendid about the Phillpotts
play, and I thank you. I am hoping about the Pinero play. I shall
be glad to see you.

This is all the voice I have left for dictation; so I end with my
best regards.

_To David Belasco, February, 1912:_

This is written for me. I am still confined to my rooms, and,
although able to sit up during the day for work, I do not get out
in the evening. I was glad to hear from you, and I hope you will
telephone that you will come round any old night that suits you.

I wish you could play "Peter Grimm" up here; I'd like to see it.

_To Sir James M. Barrie, February, 1912:_

I haven't written you because lately I have been having a lot of
pain. I sent you papers which will tell you how wonderfully your
fine play--"A Slice of Life"--has been received. It has caused a
tremendous lot of talk; but I just want to tell you that there is
absolutely no comparison, in performance, as the play is given here
and the way it was given in London. Fine actors, although the
London cast had, my people here seem to have a better grasp of what
you wanted. They have brought it out with a sincerity and
intelligence of stroke that is quite remarkable. Ethel Barrymore
never did better work. Her emotional breakdown, tears, her
humiliation--when she confesses to her husband that she had been a
good woman even before she met him, all this is managed in a keener
fashion, and with even a finer display of stage pathos than she
showed in her fine performance in "Mid-Channel."

As the husband, Jack Barrymore is every inch a John Drew. He feels,
and makes the audience feel, the humiliation of his position. When
he confesses, it is a terrible confession. Hattie Williams, in her