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Frank White and Paul Kesten and I were trying to prepare our magnus opus which we could deliver to Paley. So I thought that's what lunch was going to be about. And I went home and was sort of excited about the idea that we were going to be meeting. And I called Paul -- I didn't tell you this before, did I? I called Paul along about eight thirty in the evening, and I said--as frequently I did call him and tell bits of gossip and things that I thought that he'd like to know -- and I said, “I guess we're having lunch with Bill tomorrow.” A long pause. He said, “I guess you are. I'm not.” I could have killed myself. He said, “You know how to get there?” I said, “Why, no -- he lives up on Seventy-second or Seventy-fourth or something.” Oh, no, he says, he'll be at his country place.”

Oh, gosh.

And, “Have you ever been out there?” And I said, “No, I don't even know where it is.” “Manhassett,” Paul said, “You'd better get a map and figure how you're going to drive out there. There's no train service.” I didn't have a car because at that time, everybody who had cars turned them in for the war effort, especially if you had anything that was a later model car. Because you couldn't get gas and you couldn't get tires. You had to have rationing coupons and everything else. And we were living in the city. And so I sold my car to somebody and didn't have one. So I went to the garage where I had kept my car -- those were the good old days when you drove up to your apartment -- the doorman would call the garage and say, “Pick up the car.” You didn't leave it on the street. Anyway, I went to that garage early on Saturday morning and said: Could they find a car that I could use to drive out on Long Island? I couldn't get a driver. Carey was not -- they were operating but they weren't operating anything like they do today, because you couldn't get manpower, and they couldn't get cars, and they couldn't get gas, so they were practically out of business. Funeral parlors