This copy has been inscribed to Sydney Cockerell, who first entered literary circles by sending seashells to John Ruskin, who collected them. Cockerell then met William Morris, for whom he would later act as a private secretary. Later, Cockerell became a secretary to Wilfrid Scawen Blunt, the English poet, as well as Thomas Hardy's executor. For nearly three decades, Cockerell served as Director of the Fitzwilliam Museum, in Cambridge. He greatly improved the museum's collections of private-press books and manuscripts, prints, drawings, paintings, antiquities, and more. Cockerell was known for holding modern literary salons and had close relationships with a number of the period's literati. Conrad, however, was a particularly close friend, with whom he regularly corresponded. Notably, unlike many of Conrad's friends, Cockerell was accepting of Conrad's somewhat uncultured wife, Jessie, perhaps because of his own early background in the coal industry.

Additionally, this copy has been illustrated with four Conrad-related items. First, a photo-printed drypoint portrait entitled "Conrad Listening to Music" has been tipped in as a frontispiece. "Sir Muirhead Bone was a Scottish printmaker and watercolor artist noted for his depictions of architectural subjects, city views, landscapes, and his work as a war artist in both the First and Second World Wars" (The Met). Bone was also an occasional portraitist. The portrait of Joseph Conrad is one of three Bone executed—this one attempts to show Conrad engage in one of his favorite activities, listening to music. Conrad met Bone in 1923 on the Tuscania where they had connecting ship cabins. Bone's brother, David, was the ship's captain. In fact, since Conrad was a 16-year veteran of the British merchant marine and a former certified Master Mariner, David Bone instructed his officers to call Conrad "Captain." Muirhead Bone and Conrad became good friends during the voyage. On May 22, 1923, Conrad sat for his portrait in Great Barrington while listening to Brahms.

Three black-and-white photographic prints have been tipped onto the front pastedown. They depict Conrad with two Polish friends—young women with blond hair—at Bishopsbourne, his home, in 1924.

A telegram to Cockerell at "5 Shaftesbury Rd Cambridge" has also been tipped in. It reads "Our dear Conrad died suddenly yesterday morning. My mother and the boys are here. My love, Jessie." Jessie (neé George) was Conrad's wife of nearly 30 years. Jessie Conrad was a working-class Englishwoman. Many of Conrad's friends—who tended toward the rich and literary—found Jessie Conrad a poor choice of wife. However, scholars have regarded Jessie as essential to Conrad's literary output. Calm and level-headed, she was a good cook and homemaker. Her tolerance for frequent moves and frugalness distinguished her from many women in Conrad's circle. She was often perplexed by Conrad's behaviors but grew closer to him as she learned more about what he had endured in his early life. Ultimately, she was buried beside him when she died.

Finally, the tipped-in letter, written by Joseph Conrad on his own stationary, reads: "4. Ap. '23. My dear Cockerell, I have already answered the communication from the University of Cambridge. Thank you for your two letters. I doubt whether I will have time to see any museum or collections during my stay with the Doubledays in Oyster Bay—which will be short. I ask myself at times what I have to do 'dans cette galere' [in this mess]. But the dice are cast—(I mean the ticket is paid for) and there can be no drawing back. It is not that I do not appreciate the extreme kindness of Mr & Mrs Doubleday, or doubt the general friendliness of my reception—but I fear I may disappoint or even displease unwittingly of course. You who know me well by this time will understand my feelings. Jessie joins me in love to you both and in my thanks to dear Mrs Cockerell and yourself for the offered in hospitality. Affect'ly yours. Joseph Conrad." In 1913, "publisher Frank Nelson Doubleday invited Conrad to lunch, in London, and proposed purchasing his existing American copyrights and reprinting his books. Conrad welcomed the idea, but, fearing it wouldn't come off, asked Galsworthy if he could write to his friend Alfred A. Knopf, the Doubleday, Page employee who, in Conrad's words, had formulated 'this plan of "taking me up"'… Conrad became a best-selling Doubleday author… In 1923, at Doubleday's invitation, Conrad sailed to New York, where he was constantly pursued by reporters. (Time, which had débuted the previous month, put him on the cover)" (New Yorker). For Conrad, who suffered from anxiety and grew up with great instability, the entire affair would have felt unmanageable and unwanted.