"Life has been going on, as it has a way of doing. Just a series of minor catastrophes of varying kinds. Most noteworthy: I left a valuable manuscript of Copland's plus another printed piece of his plus a valuable manuscript book of mine plus a valuable fountain pen plus all of my thesis notes over which I had theoretically slaved (!) in New York on the train coming back from the City of Sin. The infallible New Haven Railroad is unable to find these things, which means I must start my thesis all over again at double speed, and type this letter, faut d'un stylo, and be generally upset at having lost Aaron's manuscript for him. He of course took it as only he could take it -- with a philosophical phrase. Good old Aaron: if it had been anyone else but he I should long ago have gone into voluntary exile."