Nov 7 Monday. Dearest Mother. Well, it is being extremely pleasant. Yesterday morning I breakfasted with the Stanleys and went with Sylvia to see the winter salon. It is awful, really almost nothing good or interesting. You would think it quite impossible that so many pictures could all be so ugly. I'm bound to say scarcely any of the good people were exhibiting. After lunch I drove out, left some cards and went to see Soloman Levi whom I found - enthusiastically delighted to see me. There were 2 other men there, an American from the Embassy (I had met him before in London) and one Ricci who appeared to be terribly learned. We sat for one hour or more while Soloman and Ricci piled books round me and poured information into my ears. It was delightful to hear the good jargon of the learned - all in admirable English, for they know everything. But bewildering. I dined with the Stanleys and went with them to the Theatre Antone where we saw, among other things the Main de Singe - thrilling! - and an admirable comedy called l'Asile. Oh and so well acted! This morning I read till 11 about Byzantine MSS which I'm going to see at the Bibliothèque Nationale; then I went shopping with the Stanleys and bought a charming little fur jacket to ride in in Syria - yes I did! Then I came in and read till 2 when Soloman fetched me and we went together to the Louvre. We stayed till 4.30 - it was enchanting. All empty, of course, for it is a Monday; and I think there is nothing more wonderful than to go to a museum with my dear Soloman. We passed from Egypt through Pompeii and back to Alexandria. We traced the drawing of horses from Greece to Byzantium. We identified the Lydians with the Etruscans, we followed the lines of Byzantium art into early Europe and finally in the dusk we went and did homage to the Venus, while Soloman developed an entirely new theory about eyelids - Greek eyelids, of course, and illustrated it with a Pheidean bust and a passionate Scopus head. It was nice. He dropped me at Rumpelmayer's where I had tea with the Stanleys - I am now going to dine with him and see books and photographs. Mrs Soloman is away - she is coming home this week I think. I shd like to see her. Soloman asked me anxiously if you wd mind my dining with him - I stoutly replied you wouldn't. Nor would you. I do wish you had seen him. He is singularly plain - but an angel. Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude