(1992 Memoirs)
Once or twice my father came to see how I was getting on, and we were both rather afraid of him. He came to eat and she [Olga] made a point of buying meat for noon dinner, but he slept at the hotel. I was obliged to write him once a week and saw one of the letters where I said, "It snowed and snowed, father." I guess news was scarce and I knew he would have no interest in the doll outfits Florence Fenski and I would make of Aunt Olga's scraps, when Florence said, turn it up there and put a feather right here, and it will be the cutest little hat you ever thaw."
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