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water and a rusty little stove in which we burned briquettes. I did not see Toshiko often: I thought he was cold-blooded and selfish, and deplored him as a companion for Katharine whose health seemed to me terribly frail. But she had never expected to be able to travel or live in the Latin Quarter and even the impositions of Toshiko seemed to her interesting and important. We used to drink hot chocolate with brioches at the Coupole in the late afternoons, while the rain streamed down outside, and talk about Toshiko's life, and about all our thoughts and experiences - "Like Miss Furr and Miss Skene who went to Paris to be gay," Katharine would say, and we would laugh and laugh.

  I do not remember now, and probably did not

then, how gay Gertrude Stein's characters were in Paris. Gertrude has been out of fashion for some years and perhaps already then there were few readers who recognized the privations which drove Miss Furr and Miss Skene to Paris, to be gay. Katharine's were categorical and profound, but the skies of Paris dripped nothing but drops of sordidness and vice upon a life of singular delicacy and seclusion. After a few months, I went