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 odd manner, imitated Nazimova--as Nazimova would play a butler. So these artists step out into the light--before a houseful of great laughter; one feels that they have struck the true note of what you meant your play should have. I think the impossible seriousness of triangle scenes in modern plays has been swept off the stage here--and "A Slice of Life" has done it.... The effect of "A Slice of Life" is even greater and more general than "The Twelve-Pound Look." All agree that each year you have given our stage the real novelty of its theatrical season. And the fine thing about it is that you have given me the opportunity of putting these before the public. I am getting along very slowly. I am able to do my work in my rooms and go on crutches for a couple of hours at rehearsals. But always I am in great pain. I hope to see you by the end of March. I don't know whether you will shake my hand or my crutch. But I expect to be there. We can take up the matters of "A Slice of Life," etc., then. I am so delighted about "Peter Pan" this season. I am wondering if you have done anything about that Shakespeare play, which I believe would be another big novelty. _To Sir Arthur Wing Pinero, March, 1912:_