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April 9, 1940

Dear Mother:

Well, I'm all alone in the house, and have just finished my supper. This is Angel's day off, so I couldn't leave all day. Diego just left to go to see Che Hidalgo, who invited me to come too, but for reasons above noted I can't. Yesterday morning Diego and I spent measuring the Palacio Nacional, and I spent the afternaoon figuring up its square meterage, and in the evening Frida, Diego and I prepared papers to present to the President, who wants Diego to finish the National Palace. Having the sentiments he does about the government, he put all sorts of things in the contract that he thought they would object to, and went to see Avila Camacho this morning with a gleam in his eye. He came back looking a little sad and sheepish and said "Me fregaron!" (they got the best of me) "They accepted the contract without any objections at all!" They want him to start the end of this week - it will be fun working on it if he does it.
Tomorrow I am taking Einstein (William, not Albert) to the Merced to look for furniture, while I sketch verious crafts for my map.
Orlando and Irene dropped in last night. He looks rather unhappy, poor boy. He makes perfume, and is writing a book about his life in Paris. Birds seem to occupy very little of his time.
I got the copy of the New Republic with Dad's article - it's very good. The PGand E will be sore as hell.
How are your innards by this time? Your last letter sounded as though you were feeling quite well - you should have lots of time to write letters now.

Lots of love,
Emmy Lou

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