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Mr. Green was there. While dinner was being served, the telephone rang. Mary Rumsey was very avid about telephone calls. Most people leave orders with the butler that they're not to be disturbed during a meal. That's the standard thing. But Mary Rumsey was so avid for human beings that she never wanted to miss anybody, or anything. So her instructions were, “Always lot me know if anybody calls. Don't just tell them that I'm at dinner. I want to be called. I'll decide whether I'll speak to them or not.” Anyhow, she was at one end of the table, and I was at the other - a long ways apart. The butler came and spoke to her. She excused herself to answer the phone. She was gone some time and came back and sat down. It was none of my business what her call was about.

We had just about gotten into the drawing room around nine o'clock. People hadn't sat down after dinner yet. The coffee hadn't been brought in. I remember there was a piano down towards the door. I was standing at the piano, or close by it, close enough so that I had my little handbag on it. I was talking to Mr. Green and somebody else. All of a sudden the butler opened the door to the drawing room. I heard him mutter something, but I wasn't listening for the name. I thought he was