In a very short time it became evident to me that Constance had remained true to tradition and the environment from which we both had sprung. A social environment which is much the same in all countries. Meanwhile she realized that I had played truant. We had an amusing time renewing ourselves to each other. We began cautiously, but in the end, admitting totally different tastes and opinions, we have linked up a friendship that is now confirmed. Meanwhile the social strenuousness of Burlingame cannot kill me physically, because I am a very strong woman, but it has killed me mentally. There is a pain at the back of my forehead and a void where thoughts should be. Burlingame has, collectively, the psychology of a great big girls’ school. The stranger arrives and is looked at, is accepted or ignored, as the case may be. Burlingame is independent of spirit and likes as it pleases. Like children, they seem to be care-free, happy and contented. Yes, surely these are happy people, they represent exclusively the prosperous,--they have no anxieties of life. Contentment is their most conspicuous quality--they would not be here, else. It is a self-indulgent, happy-go-lucky community, not over-critical, the spirit of “live-and-let-live” which is rather rare in the East, thrives here. They lead an easy life in a kindly climate, they can afford to be generous. They all know each other very well, and they see one another every day. Sometimes three times and sometimes four. Their houses are close together. There are no big properties as in England to rouse one’s sense of inequality. They motor to each other’s houses and to the country club, although they are only a stone’s throw in distance, and every time they meet they are pleased to see each other. I wonder they have anything left to say, yet they talk all the time. It is true they do not listen much, they all talk at the same time. On Saturdays and Sundays, and at night, there are men. These love their golf, their tennis and their bridge, and they dress like Englishmen. In their midst is one strange man who does not belong. I met him, of course, the moment I arrived. My name being somehow associated in people’s minds with Russia, I must surely meet this Russian no matter what kind of Russian he might be. “They” said he is the Russian consul, representing the Russian government. No one seemed to know that the Russian government is not represented in this country and no one cared. True to type, I recognized at once that he belonged to the regime that’s gone. With all the charm and arrogance, the old world manners and impenetrable smile, this blasé cosmopolitan, appreciative, yet consciously superior, stood out--a stranger in their midst. No party seemed complete without him. But I too was a stranger and watched him and I watched them, and I saw that he too watched. Sometimes I thought I knew what he was thinking and ofttimes I gave it up. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1921. _San Francisco._