After the performance Stravinsky took me to the home of the Princess Murat, who was holding a grand reception in honour of the Ballets Russes: Diaghilev, Stravinsky, Larionov, the Grand Duke Dimitry Pavlovich, Picasso and several young French composers, one of them a decorative young female, and a host of other guests. The amount of talk and noise and leaping about was tremendous; at three o'clock in the morning Stravinsky was underneath the piano with his enemy Cocteau, a gramophone was screeching away on top of the piano while someone was thrashing the keys and Diaghilev seemed to be dancing a Lancers with our hostess. I alone preserved a dignified composure.