She was sure that she would have no difficulty luring Fair into private discussions with T. V. Soong—and into a compromising position, if that was necessary—whenever her brother considered that would aid the Chinese cause in Washington. And she was enflaming Peter Fair all right, but not exactly with the results she had intended. As the meal was concluded and the guests were rising to reform either in the lounge to listen to the usual string quartet that had been brought in to entertain them or to various smaller meeting rooms in the building to plan or cajole or be cajoled concerning the various crises affecting their respective nations, Peter rose, took the hand of his dinner partner on his left who had said barely a word to him, and whispered in her ear. He did not let go of her hand until she had acceded to his request. They met at one of the French doors to the walled garden in the glass conservatory that ran across the garden façade of the embassy building, the former town. It was in my short term memory and made it more difficult for me to learn complex information and retain it without multiple repetitions. I had been compensating for this problem by going over and over my lessons several times until I absorbed enough to understand. I wasn’t conscious of it being a problem. I just did what I had to do to cope. It wasn’t possible for them to pin down the cause of the disorder, but I had adjusted to the problem over the years and the research group had no other suggestion than to keep on keepin’ on. In other words, continue to adapt with repetition as the best way to learn. There was no drug or magic formula to cure this problem. The best I could do was to refine my study methods to concentrate on getting the core of what I was trying to learn and spend most of my time absorbing that. It struck me that I had been doing that very thing for the last ten years. I think my parents were relieved to know the cause of the problem and in fact, they expressed.
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