From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:
There is a beautiful French lady staying at the Hotel and her name is Miss Roux. She wears lovely filmy clothes that you can see through, and she has such beautiful underwear that you wish you could see through that too. Yesterday, as we were sitting in a little pagoda on the edge of the lake, Daddy and Miss Roux were drinking the same yellow drinks that Aunt Tillie and her friends had that day in the pink restaurant, but now I had a strawberry lemonade to sip while I listened to them talk. They were talking quietly when I heard daddy say, “Never tell anyone that you are over eighteen and you certainly can’t be a day over twenty five.” So I said, “Why daddy! You told me that Miss Roux was at least thirty five.” Daddy said that I had confused who he was talking about and that he said it about some other woman, but Miss Roux said that children never lie or get confused, only grown-ups do. When we were alone later, Daddy was a little angry and he asked me how I dared say anything so dreadful. So I just said that I had repeated what he told me. I don’t understand adults. Grandfather said that I never should be afraid to tell the truth, and that was the truth. My father did say it about Miss Roux and no one else.