in gold lettering, and upon seeing that name they became calm immediately. Not only calm but strangely respectful, withdrawing very soon. We completed our dressing.
We packed our things immediately and the men conducted us to the side entrance. On the way out Mr. Harding handed one of them a $20 bill. When we were in the taxi, he remarked explosively, "Gee, Nan, I thought I wouldn't get out of that under $1000!"
We went to Churchill's for dinner and he returned to Washington on the midnight train.
Some time later, upon the occasion of one of his visits, Mr. Harding told me that he had found out something he had not then known: namely, that a member of the House of Representatives or of the United States Senate cannot be detained for any reason whatsoever when he is enroute to Washington to serve the people. At the time of our almost tragic adventure Mr. Harding had been "enroute," for he had stopped to be with me in New York on his way back to Washington from some city where he had delivered an address.
Shortly after that, a week or ten days probably, he came over again. We took a taxi ride. Mr. Harding asked the taxi man where we could find a nice, quiet place where we could feel assured of not being disturbed. I shall never forget how much fun we had over this drive. The taxi driver nodded and turned the car into Riverside Drive. On and on we sped, and we both wondered where under the sun the place was to which he was driving us. When we reached Riverside Drive and One Hundred and something (this was before the Drive was cut through to Dyckman Street), the driver stopped the car beside a lonely wood, jumped out and disappeared into the wood. I shall never forget how funny it seemed to us. "Well," laughed Mr. Harding, "he is an accommodating driver anyway!" In about ten or fifteen minutes the driver returned. "Say, George," Mr. Harding said, "we want a hotel." "Yes, sir," the driver replied, without glancing around, and with every indication that he understood all along but was just carrying out a little
