I lunched with Mrs. Lorrilard Spencer, and met there an extremely
interesting woman. She had a hawk’s eye, but a kindly smile. It was the
face of a “femme savante.” She was Mrs. Eliot, and I never found out
till later that she was a daughter of Julia Ward Howe, the author of
the Battle Hymn of the Republic.
Walking down Fifth Avenue in the afternoon, a woman caught me up and
asked if I was Mrs. Sheridan. She said she was the Communist woman
who came up and spoke to me after my lecture at the Aeolian Hall. I
remembered her emotional Russian face. Her name, she said, was Rose
Pastor Stokes. She had liked my sincerity and impartiality about the
Soviet leaders. She apologized for not being able to ask me to a meal
in her house (why should she apologize or ask me)? Her explanation was
that she had married a millionaire, and he had “reverted to type” with
the result that their meals were rather silent! I asked her to come and
see me, but she said that she was under police surveillance and she did
not wish to compromise me.
We walked some way together.