Sunday, February 25, 1945

Jimmie called at 11:30 and said he slept late, the baby - I was glad. I told him that my train would be in around noon Monday and to call me at the Mostyn Red Cross Club. He said he couldn't even bear to drink withour me - had had two ales. The picture progressing nicely.

Thirty years later, Minneapolis, Minnesota - We met in front of the Mostyn Club by accident and went to a shabby little hotel that did a big favor for Americans and their gals by not asking for papers of any kind. We found a room being vacated by a cheerful party, all of whom had hangovers and wished us a good time. It was the first time we had ever been really alone. It was a transcendent experience! We spent most of the time just feasting our eyes and saying, "Are you really here? Is this true? Am I dreaming?" He bought me primroses, and later a bottle of Je Reviens cologne. I now - all these years later - have the same kind of scent - hard to buy in London then. We found a small club off Oxford St., the Court Club, paid our pound for membership, and after a few gins Jimmie took over the piano, to everyone's pleasure. "Home" together, and breakfast in the morning. The business of passing cold toast and orange marmalade was a religious rite - our parting was terrible. And we were never to be together again like that, not for breakfast.