not go
to my left as I commanded?" "Because, sire," said the little man, "my
wife told me always to avoid a crush." It's a mild story, but it's the
only one I remember. The only other thing I recollect about President
Wilson is that he had a great admiration for Lord Robert Cecil.

General Sackville-West came, and we had some peaceful sittings. A very
calm, very sad man, but he was kindness itself. Many are the acts for
which I have to thank him.

Lord Beatty arrived in Paris. A lunch was given in his honour at the
Embassy, after which he came back with me to the "Astoria," and sat. (p. 108)
A forceful character! I may be wrong, but I imagine he did not love
the "frocks."

George Adam gave a great dinner one night out at some little country
place near Paris. Mr. Massey, of New Zealand, and Admiral Heaton Ellis
were the two chief people present. Massey was a most pleasant big man,
with kind, blue eyes--a simple, honest, straightforward person, large
in body and big enough in brain to laugh at himself. He made me feel I
was back painting the honest people in the war. He had none of the
affectations of the "frocks."

I painted the Marquis Siongi in his flat in the Rue Bassano. There one
worked in the calm of the East. People entered the room, people left,
but I never heard a sound. The Marquis sat--never for one second did
his expression give an inkling of what his brain was thinking about.
He never moved; his eyelids never fluttered, and beside me all the
time I worked, curled up on a sofa, was his daughter--surely one of
the most beautiful women I have ever seen, soft and gentle, with her
lovely little white feet. I loved it all. When I left that flat I
could not help feeling I was going downstairs to a lower and more
common world, a world where passions and desires were thrust upon
one's eyes and ears, leaving no room for imagination or wonder. I
never pass down the Rue Bassano now that I do not think of the Marquis
and those lovely little white feet, the gentle manners and the calm of
the East which pervaded those apartments.

General Smuts sat, a strong personality with great love for his own
country, and a fearless blue eye. I would not like to be up against
him, yet in certain ways he was a dreamer and poet in thought. He
loved the people and hated the "frocks." He and I had a great night
once at the servants' dance down in the ballroom of the "Majestic." (p. 109)
I found him down there during the evening,