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of the term of our friendship, indeed, I was a writer only in a very modest sense. I was not on the lookout for the kind of "copy" his affairs and ideas offered, for at this period I was a reporter of music and the drama. Ewen later, when I began to set down my thoughts in what is euphemistically called a more permanent form, the notion of using Peter as a subject never presented itself to me, and if he had asked me to do so during his lifetime, urging me to put aside a pile of unfinished work in his behalf, the request would have astounded me. I made, therefore, no special effort to ferret out his secrets. When it was convenient for both of us we met and, largely by accident, I was a silent witness of three of his literary experiments. How many others he may have made, I do not know. It is possible that at some time or other he may have been inspired by the religious school, the Tolstoy theory of art, or he may have followed the sensuous lead of Gozzoli and Debussy, artists whose work intrigued him enormously, or in another æsthetic avatar, he may have believed that true art is degrading or coldly classic. There is even the possibility, by no means remote, that he may have fallen under the influence of the small-town and psychoanalytic schools. Except in a general way, however, in a conversation which I shall record at the end of this chapter, he never mentioned further experiments. It is possible that others may have evidence bearing on this point. Martha Baker might