He lived
at Montboron, 
which was near by. The restaurant
was called the Pavilion Henri IV. There was a tiny
bar and outside a small paved terrasse with a few-
tables. We could see the whole of the Cap Ferrat 
from our table. Stravinsky arrived very flustered.
He told us his troubles, which were many and
varied. He had quarrelled with his cook, which he
did once or twice a day, as he was always late for
meals. His whole household worked all day. The
girls drew and embroidered their drawings. One
son painted and the other composed and his wife
dealt with the whole family. He was hiding from
Diaghilev. He had just returned to Nice and had
had an appointment to lunch with him at the
Reserve. 
We had nearly, at the last moment, de
cided to go to the Reserve, and we breathed a sigh
of relief, as Russians have a habit of getting very
excited indeed when awkward situations arise.
Stravinsky explained that if he met Diaghilev,
Diaghilev would disturb him and upset him doing
his packing. He said, " J* adore faire ma valise, c'est
la seule chose qui vraiment m? amuse" He told us that
he had invented a most beautiful suitcase, all the
fittings were made of silver and all the bottles and
little boxes inside were square. He said that it was
called Le modele Stravinsky and was sold by a firm
in the Champs Ely sees. He explained that he did
not possess one as the firm was so mean that they
had expected him to buy one at some enormous
cost. 
Gocteau came over from Monte Carlo and joined
us after lunch. I met a Frenchman I had known
slightly in Paris, who had a villa and one of the
most beautiful gardens in the South of France. He
lived on a hill above Cap Martin. He asked me to
lunch. I mentioned, at luncheon one day, the name
of the man, and a French woman present said,
" How odd! I and my husband are lunching with
him the same day; will you come along with us in
our motor? " We started the next day, and as we
were driving through Monte Carlo we saw Cocteau,
We waved to him and he came and spoke to us. As
he smiled we noticed that his gums were bright red.
As we drove on the Frenchwoman said, " Tiens! il
a ses gencives peintes" (his gums are painted). I
said, " I wonder what he has done to them? " Coc
teau was always finding new stunts and jokes to as
tound the bourgeois. He was going to lunch at a large
hotel and we wondered what the effect would be on
the guests. I told F., who was very interested, but
we did not mention it to anyone else, knowing that
repeating things leads to trouble of every kind.
Unfortunately, the Frenchwoman repeated this in
cident to Harry Melvill, who did not get on at all
well with Jean. They both liked talking all the time
and consequently it was very awkward when they
were both at a rather small party together. Harry
was delighted and told everyone. We went to
Villefranche one day to see Cocteau and Georges
Auric, who were staying there. There we found
Harry at a corner table. Jean came and joined us
and, after lunch, he took me aside and said, " Gome
upstairs, I have something to show you." We went
upstairs and on the washstand were tubes and pots
of bright red paste. This was the secret of the
gencives peintes. He had found, at Nice, some tooth
paste which, if rubbed hard enough and long enough,
made the gums bright red. F. and I immediately
on our return journey stopped at Nice and bought
some. We went home and scrubbed and scrubbed.
The effect lasted about half an hour and as we did
not propose to spend the day cleaning our teeth we
abandoned it. 
One morning I was standing in the middle of my
room with no clothes on, assuming a variety of poses
and looking at myself in two mirrors,
so that I could
see the effect all round. The window was open and
suddenly the round red face of a workman appeared.
He had come up a ladder and was engaged in (adrian stephen by hamnett)
painting the house. I stood still with shock, and so
did the astonished workman. I then walked up to
the windows and closed the shutters. I told F.
and Poulenc, who were delighted. I suppose the
workman told his mates who were working on the
estate, because, afterwards, they always laughed
when they saw me. I had a letter from the English
man who said that he had arranged for me to have
an exhibition at the Claridge Gallery in April. I
painted two pictures during my visit, as well as the
pear-tree. They were of the farm-houses with olive
trees and I sold them all in London. 
I packed up my possessions and returned to Paris
above crystal palace by hamnett
to collect my work for the exhibition. The Pole saw
me off at the Gare St. Lazare. I entered a third-
class carriage and in it I found a young man, Hans
Egli, whom I had known for some time and who had
married one of my friends. He was coming from
Switzerland with his youngest child
, who was about
a year old. He had with him also one of my guitars.
I had some wine with me. Some other people
entered the carriage and I felt rather embarrassed
as I was sure that they thought I was the mother of
the infant. A business man with a grey moustache
was sitting beside me. My friend handed me the
baby, who roared. I wished I could have jumped
out of the window. The business man smiled and
I handed him the baby. Hans and I, much relieved,
took down the guitar, and I opened the wine. The
baby was entertained by the business man and we
drank wine and sang songs till we reached Dieppe.
We got to London at 7.30 a.m
. It was cold and
dreary and raining slightly. I took a room in a
hotel and went directly to bed, wondering what my
exhibition and the future would bring forth.
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