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I chased into the station at New Haven and bought a couple of sandwiches and took them back onto the train with me, taking no chances. When the train would leave a station, each porter would go through his car and decide whether or not all his passengers were on, then give the conductor the highball. Lord knows how many got left that way. People were sitting around in the Pullmans munching sandwiches. The whole thing was like a cheap excursion. At 2:20 PM we pulled into Grand Central.

Had a session with Walt Hadley, who hasn't yet got the ACF tank vender dope, Jay, Zimmer (on possibility of getting armor plate from ACF) and Sheahan on Brazilian destroyer gun mounts and British business, and then Jay made a date with Phil Hatch for dinner. We met at the Commodore and wound up at the Cotton Club where a very pleasant evening was spent but it couldn't match for hilarity the evening at the Diamond Horseshoe, largely because Ed wasn't [[strikethrough]] pleasant [[/strikethrough]] present this time. The show was generally good with Maxine Sullivan singing well. There was a [[?]] dancer who was too seductive for anybody's peace of mind and some "tall, tan, terrific gals" who were terrific all right. Perhaps the highspot of the show was the master of ceremonies, a tall, handsome, beautifully spoken negro who could dance - wow, how he could dance! He was high grade and such a contrast to most negroes in that capacity. Jay, Phil and I always have a good time together - we seem to understand each other, have a lot in common, be the same general type and if I do say it, the type is on a higher level of gentility and taste than the average run of men one deals with. But in

Transcription Notes:
mandc: "muscle" dancer?