There appears to have been some mix up over my accommodation. My usual Penthouse Suite seems to have been booked by the President for a guest. The Old Monkey is distraught - he cannot understand how this debacle has occurred.
I must admit the room they have given us, on the floor below, is rather cramped. I have put on a brave face, however, in order to cheer him up. I told him it was all rather cosy.
I have been somewhat surprised that we have not been besieged by the usual hordes of celebrities demanding an audience with me. Perhaps the message has got through that I want to be left alone to enjoy my sojourn in New York.
I was just saying to Goodman, as we sat by the fire with our buckets of cocoa, how nice it was to have a quiet night in, when an almighty racket started up over our heads. It would seem that the occupants of the Penthouse Suite are having a wild party and our determined to spoil our tranquil evening. We could hear wild raucous laughter and someone was playing the "The Red Flag" incredibly badly on the piano.
We have been unable to sleep, because of the noise, so Goodman popped out and got an early edition of "The New York Times" with yours truly on the cover!
There was also a picture of the President with his new economic advisor - he looked strangely familiar ?...perhaps I have met him at some conference?...