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and, I guess, just as rich as Sonny Whitney. After she married Averell, she opened an art gallery on Fifty-seventh Street, right across from our Random House office. I had met her at a dinner party and we were compatible. Like every other eligible young man, I fell in love with Marie for awhile. She quite demolished our firm, in fact. My partner, Donald, fell for her, too.

You and Donald Klopfer certainly had tastes alike.

We were very much alike. We both became friends of Averell as time went on. Every Thanksgiving, the Harrimans would have a great big party at their house in Arden, which he has now given to the Government.

No, to Columbia.

Can you imagine living there? I remember that we turned the chapel into a badminton court. The things that went on at those parties! There were never less than thirty-five people present. They would start Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving and run through Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. What a group of people would gather at these parties! Marie loved literary and theatrical people and Averell didn't mind, I'd say. The house was always full of people like Heywood Broun, Alexander Woollcott, and Hecht and MacArthur. Ernest Hemingway was there with two different wives on various occasions. So was