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MY VISIT TO GERMANY 121 dreams of the future still alive within her. I am very anx- ious to know what she really thinks. I ask her about the defeat of Germany. She becomes dis- creet at once. Blames it on the Kaiser. She hates war and militarism. That's all I can get out of her, and it is getting late and we must leave. Her future intrigues me, but does not seem to worry her. On the way home we stop in at Kaufman's apartment and have quite a chat about pictures and things back in Los Angeles. Los Angeles seems very far away. I am invited to a formal dinner party for the next evening at the home of Herr'Werthauer, one of the most prominent lawyers in all Europe and a chief of the Kaiser during the war. The occasion for the dinner was to celebrate the an- nouncement of Werthauer's engagement to his third wife. His is a wonderful home in the finest section of Berlin. At the party there are a number of his personal friends, Pola Negri, Al Kaufman, Mrs. Kaufman, Robinson, and myself. There is a Russian band playing native music all through the dinner and jazz music is also being dispensed by two orchestras made up of American doughboys who have been discharged, but have stayed on in Germany. For no reason at all, I think of the story of Rasputin. This seems the sort of house for elaborate murders. Perhaps it is the Russian music that is having this effect on me. There is a huge marble staircase whose cold austereness sug- gests all sorts of things designed to send chills up the spine. The servants are so impressive and the meal such a cere- mony that I feel that I am in a palace. The Russian folk- songs that are being dreamily whined from the strings of their peculiar instruments have a very weird effect and I find food and dining the least interesting things here. There is a touch of mystery, of the exotic, something so foreign though intangible, that I find myself searching everything and everybody, trying to delve deeper into this atmosphere. We are all introduced, but there are too many people