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the schedule proved arduous even for Mr. Capote--going home every night at about 2:30 a.m. so that for these two weeks he lived in our house in our guest room. The people from Garden City were in an absolute daze. They were meeting everybody from the President of the United States down. Mrs. Kay Graham, head of Newsweek and the Washington Post, gave the big party for them in Washington by order of Truman. All they met down there was the President, the Secretary of State, and every other V.I.P. under the sun.

One night Phyllis said to him, “Truman, even you can't stand this pace.” Truman said, “Well, I am tired. Tomorrow night I'm packing them off to the theater.” He ordered somebody to give them a theater party for some show that he had seen about six times. He said, “I'm going to bed. I'm going over to Brooklyn Heights and I'm going to sleep for fifteen hours.” The next afternoon, I watched him going off with his little bag to “go home to sleep for fifteen hours.” I said to Phyllis, “What do you bet that something is going to happen and he's not going to bed?" Phyllis said, “Do you think I'm crazy? Of course something is going to happen. It's Truman.” Well, Truman went off to his home in Brooklyn Heights. The next night we met at one of the parties. I said, “How much sleep did you get last night?" He giggled happily and said, “Well, I didn't get much.” Here's what happened. He arrived home and there was a girl waiting for him in his house, a girl who had a key to his apartment, and was upstairs painting when he arrived, waiting for him to