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Regar^ng Lola Lane
and how she feels about love, friendship, suitors and romance in the moonlight
By JAMES MARION
I INTERVIEWED Lola Lane on a moonlight night. We were seated in her garden and romance seemed to linger in the air. Like the stars overhead, Lola's eyes shone brightly. She is a beautiful girl and very young and charming. I am young, too.
Maybe that is why I happened to ask her if she believed in love and why she has never been engaged.
"I'm looking for love," Lola murmured. ""If Cupid will just pay me a serious call, I'll welcome hitri with open arms. Romance tugs at my heart; I want love. But I have been on the stage many years. I have seen life. I know people; men in particular. Most of them are trying to avoid falhng in love. They would like to have girls love them but they want to escape unscathed. Because I know this, I am afraid of love. Still, I am hungry for romance."
"S.'iouldn't think you'd have to worry about suitors," I suggested
"Oi , I guess I know plenty of fellows; nice fellows, too. But one can't fall in love with a man because he is nice. I don't know what this thing called love is. I dofi't suppose anyone does. But whatever it is, I have yet to experience it. Some day, maybe I will." Lola's eyes were dreamy and had a far-away look in them.
Before she gained fame on the stage, Lola knew real poverty. At one time she worked in an ice-cream factory for fifteen dollars a week and saved on it.
I MUST have sighed more lustily than I thought, for she looked at me questioningly. "What about you.?" she asked. "Are you in love?"
"Constantly," I replied. "I'm seldom out of love. First one girl, then another. But my successes are short lived; my girl friends soon forget me. They have a habit of deserting me for the first handsome sheik that ventures along."
"Perhaps you are lucky and don't know it," Lola consoled me. "I'm not sure which is better — or worse; to never be in love, or to be always in love in an unsettled, fickle way. I do not believe I'd be happy if I devoted myself to a new sweetheart every few weeks or months. No, I am sure I'd rather remain as I am. One of these days my man will come along and I'll probably fall so madly in love that I won't be able to sleep or eat or do anything but sit and dream about him."
She laughed. Like her personality, her laugh is strong [Continued on page 84}
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