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Letter from J M Barrie to Cynthia Asquith

I don't suppose I shall be able to get down. I want to come but I should have done it before Michael got back. They shrink, these boys, from going anywhere; the death of their parents is really at the root of it, and down in my soul I know myself to be so poor a substitute that I try to make some sort of amends by hanging on here when there is any chance of my being a little use to them. Even in admitting this I am saying more to you than I do to most.