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“Well,” he said, “she told me that she wanted to go and I thought that it was an excellent idea.” He told me that that night on the telephone.

As I sat there in my room in the Beau Rivate, looking out over Lake Geneva and Mont Blanc, in Queen Victoria's suite (I must tell about that sometime. One of the most comic episodes of my life is how I came to be lodged in Queen Victoria's suite which was so big that I could hardly get from my bathroom to the telephone in under ten minutes), I thought, “What am I going to do?” The Atlantic is a big place when you have to negotiate across it. I couldn't negotiate with Baruch any more. He had put me in a jam by saying it had been cleared with the President. I thought to myself, “perhaps it hasn't been cleared with the President. Perhaps he doesn't know what he's cleared. I'll call the President. I'm a thrifty New England woman and I don't believe in this wasteful habit of calling people by transatlentic telephone. It's too expensive if it weren't an absolute necessity, but this is necessary.”

So I called the President. I got through to him rather quickly. I remember that it was a rather good time of evening, such as late evening in Switzerland and early evening in Washington. Anyhow, I got him. He didn't have