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An incident tonight perhaps ought to be recorded: Going into Warners Theater, I walked past Whitey and Carol Wilson and failed completely to see either of them - Willie told me afterward. Coming out, they were in the lobby with the Kearns and Gouldthorpes. I spoke then but fancied Whitey ignored me. Probably he didn't at all but only appeared to in the confusion. I could have let myself think a lot about that but I clamped my foot down and refused to do it. 

Evie, Pa.,
Sunday, Nov. 26, 1939. 
Another routine Sunday. Took a ride this afternoon - a lovely, clear, crisp day - all leaves gone - the countryside waiting for winter and ready for it. Roger is working on me to help him make a house for Bunny for Christmas and we got started this afternoon. Babbie hasn't been herself lately - I suspect it is adolescence coming on. She is well nigh unmanageable sometimes. She and Rog are both in bad with Mother, who thinks they are poking fun at her behind her back and perhaps they are; I don't know. They both act like the very devil some of the time. But the whole thing makes for strain and unnaturalness in the house. Just another of those things. 

Enroute to Washington, D.C. 
Nov. 27. 1939.
The Cummins people were here today and had a session on the initial speed situation. I wasn't in on it but Whitey told me later it was all smoothed out as he expected it would be and he didn't know what possessed Barrell to write such a letter to him. He didn't like it.