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 for luncheon after the theater with some of his friends. A carriage would call for me, and would take me home after the party, he wrote. I went down to the Twenty-fourth street studio again and found Mr. White and no one else there.

"'What do you think,' he said to me, 'the others have turned us down.' Then I told him I had better go home, and he told me that I had better sit down and have some fruit. So I took off my hat and coat. Mr. White told me he had other floors in the garden, and that I had not seen all of his place. He would take me around and show me, he said.

"So he took me up some stairs to the floor above, where there were very beautiful decorations," went on Mrs. Thaw. "I played for him, and he took me into another room. That room was a bedroom. On a small table stood a bottle of champagne and one glass. Mr. White poured out just one glass for me, and I paid no attention to it. Mr. White went away, came back and said: 'I decorated this room, myself.' Then he asked me why I was not drinking my champagne and I said I did not like it; it tasted bitter. But he persuaded me to drink it and I did.

"A few moments after I had drank it there began a pounding and thumping in my ears and the room got all black."

Mrs. Thaw was almost in tears at this statement.

"When I came to myself I was greatly frightened and I started to scream. Mr. White came and