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180
Thursday, June 28, 1928

Reed had been talking about us!  Then mother and I went to the public square which was throbbing with the movement and color of the hundreds of fascinating people and queer, rhythmic, beating music of the fandango.  Peasants got up and did all six parts of its intricate, formal, graceful steps to the pulsing music.  It was a thrilling sight...  Our better judgement told us not to go back to the cafe to meet the Foreign Legion as we had planned.

Friday morning mother met the Weymans and I went swimming with Don.  He was extremely nice in the morning, rather interesting and entertaining, and fairly complimentary.  After much persuasion he said he would tell us something about Reed — REED, he said IS MARRIED, HAS A CHILD THREE YEARS OLD, THINKS I LOVE HIM, MIGHT EVEN WANT TO MARRY ME!!!  It certainly was a shock...  I don't know exactly how I feel.  I was a bit nervous at first that he would "use" my letters for a divorce, but I doubt that, as his love for me is sincere.  Then I was, and am, angry that he had the audacity to act as he did to me without letting me know the whole truth, taking the chance that I might have really loved him.... And too, I can understand a bit his wanting


181
Friday, June 29, 1928

to grasp at a bit of happiness.  However, I promised Don I wouldn't say anything so I don't know what I will do.  I will probably wait and then write the truth — end it — and ask for my letters and pictures — altho' I hate to hurt him, even if he did do a horribly unfair thing to me!

In the late afternoon, Don took mother and me for champagne cocktails.  He was amusing — and tight.  After supper mother and he and I went for coffee and then to Maxims to dance and imbibe more champagne.  Don is a peculiar person.  He has too much money to ever be in need; he has, consequently, batted around Europe for several years learning how to carry on affairs and how to drink; he at times considers going into the diplomatic service, which he could do on brains and "pull" but he is lazy — and scoffs at the idea that "Life is real and life is earnest," he is anxious to marry an attractive girl with whom he is not in love; he has an inferiority complex due to his feeling of guilt at being a "bum"; he is attractive looking; he drinks too much; he has charm.  Mother was very attracted to him and did her best, — and ever since has been saying he is a "rotter" and that he "disgusts" her and so on — and I keep silent and remember her efforts.  The Irishman was there and darling and apologetic.  Don, after much champagne, told me he

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