My Dear Barrie,—It is all but twenty years since
we were first acquainted, for if we live till the spring of
1908, our friendship will have reached its majority.
Of those far-off days I cherish, as I believe you do, a
grateful memory. How many problems had we to
discuss, how many ideals had we to satisfy, and how
much ambition had we to fulfil! I think you, at least,
have gone far to fulfil all yours, who have written your
name indelibly in the literature of our generation.
That name I am, after the long lapse of years, prefixing
to this book of stories, in the hope that they
will interest you, and as a testimony to the enduring
quality of our friendship.

Yours always,

H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON.

  January 1906