McBride says he wishes to go to lunch with us. I tell him to get his coat and come along. We are inside a good-sized building. In going to fetch my coat I pass along a corridor almost to front door, and I notice, outside the building, a group of 8 or 10 people who seem to be waiting for the elevator, a bus, or some other conveyance. McBridge, I , and some third person decide we will make better time by going through the back door and taking a different elevator. I am wearing heavy, storm overshoes reaching half way to knees. One trouser leg is tucked into an overshoe, the other one loose and flapping. Full of pep, I attempt to slide on the hard, composition floor of the hall.