I have found in an old diary a quotation from Stephane Mallarmé, sayingthat his epoch was troubled by the trembling of the veil of the Temple. Asthose words were still true, during the years of my life described in thisbook, I have chosen The Trembling of the Veil for its title.

Except in one or two trivial details, where I have the warrant of oldfriendship, I have not, without permission, quoted conversation ordescribed occurrence from the private life of named or recognisablepersons. I have not felt my freedom abated, for most of the friends of myyouth are dead and over the dead I have an historian’s rights. They wereartists and writers and certain among them men of genius, and the life ofa man of genius, because of his greater sincerity, is often an experimentthat needs analysis and record. At least my generation so valuedpersonality that it thought so. I have said all the good I know and allthe evil: I hav