Fate is inscrutable, chance is unreadable, and circumstance is unfathomable. No one knows what he may one day suffer. The private sorrows of Sir James Barrie illustrate the insecurity of mortal happiness. Life has bestowed on him fame without stint and wealth without measure. All over the world his plays are spouting money as a gusher spouts oil. Riches pursue him day and night. He cannot escape from the golden rivers. But fame and fortune do not exempt him from the furtive blows of fate. Of his four foster-sons, Michael Llewelyn Davies was the best beloved. On the eve of his twenty-first year he perishes like Milton’s Lycidas. The witless unreason of the tragedy shocks us. Is there a grudge against glory, a spite against fame, a vendetta against dazzling fortune? Is there immunity in obscurity?

– Sunday Express – 22 May 1921