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Called off my date with Bill Libby tonight to revamp the report draft in the light of my new information. Went up to the cocktail lounge on the roof for a couple of Cutty Sarks before dinner and enjoyed the relaxation. There was one girl up there with a middle aged bald man and another girl who resembled Barbara Reed, who I should have enjoyed meeting. Sweet and refined and pretty looking. That's the trouble with me. The ones who appeal to me are not even approachable under these circumstances, and the ones who are, don't appeal to me. So there you are. I got a smile and a wave of the hand from my friend the head waitress in the Coffee House anyhow.

And so, another evening of labor and tomorrow night, Bill and his wife are having dinner with me.

And, oh yes, they tell me Ayers is a hill-billy from Vermont - that funny accent.

I have never mentioned, as I recall, John Belling. Poor old John is a rather pitiful figure now. He had a heart attack last summer and finally recovered enough to get back to the office a couple of hours every afternoon, which he still does. He comes in about 2 PM, doesn't know what's going on naturally, has almost nothing to do, and sits around most of the time in the outer office for company. His health is shattered and yet he isn't quite old enough to want to retire. So the others are "carrying" him so to speak until he can retire. And it is a hell of a load to