James Matthew Barrie

Dear Brutus James Matthew Barrie

We are translated to the depths of the wood in the enchantment of amoonlight night. In some other glade a nightingale is singing, in thisone, in proud motoring attire, recline two mortals whom we haveknown in different conditions; the second chance has converted theminto husband and wife. The man, of gross muddy build, lies luxuriouson his back exuding affluence, a prominent part of him heavingplayfully, like some little wave that will not rest in a still sea. Ahandkerchief over his face conceals from us what Colossus he may be, but his mate is our Lady Caroline. The nightingale trills on, and LadyCaroline takes up its song