Another night at Madame’s and I had my first glimpse of her when she was under the influence of liquor. She got mad at me for some reason or other—I guess it was because I wouldn’t manifest any evidences of a desire to love her. So she proceeded to drink up everything in sight, and she had a remarkable capacity, I must say, although she finally began to show the effects. She didn’t pass out, but she did go to sleep for a little while and when she awoke, she must have thought I had gone for she burst into some of the choicest German profanity I ever hope to hear, but the maid came running in at once and contrived to let her see that I was still there. She just laughed, however, and declared, “I wouldn’t exchange my baby sergeant for ten generals!” But before she could begin “loving me to shreds” as she had promised earlier in the evening, I hastened to tell her I was feeling kinda unstable and wanted to go home. She really thought I was the funniest young kid she ever met: no doubt I was, but not in the way she thought. —9— The next day was a busy one. I mean, quite a lot had happened in the matter of France and America versus Madame Ada Gedouin. In the first place, I went over to her apartment just after noon and parked myself for the day. About two o’clock she decided that we’d better go out for a stroll and a peep in some of the shops, so we set off, after she told the maid she might go out also. We went to a dozen places and were gone altogether about two hours. When we returned the maid was there, but I wandered into the boudoir with the Madame and made myself useful. She sat down before her dressing table and I stood behind her, playing with the curls at the nape of her neck and talking of this and that.... I saw a long envelope on the corner of the table and I knew at once that it had been put there since we left the apartment, for I had been in there before we went out and there had been no envelope there then.... I didn’t show, by even so much as a second glance at it, that I had noticed the envelope especially, but the Madame finally picked it up and said something about the maid collecting a loan for her. Whereupon she opened the packet and removed its contents. All I could see was that it was paper money of large denominations; she folded them quickly and tucked the batch into her hand bag, handing me the envelope and saying, “Be a good boy and put that in the fireplace in the other room.” I went into the other room and called back, “Shall I burn it up? There’s nothing else here to burn.” “You may as well,” she replied and I drew a piece of note paper from my pocket, crumpled it in my hand and touched a match to it. The envelope went into my breeches, inside, because I didn’t have time to fold it and put it in one of the buttoned pockets.