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A ctorviews
was one of the times. That’s why I began to interview you ... in self-defense . . . understand?”
Of course I did. More ice was cracked.
“It was my shyness and hers,” she told me, “that brought Laurette Taylor and me together. She was the rage in London. Everybody was invited this day — even me. But of course I wasn’t to be introduced . . . only the great were, my hostess said.
“But when I saw Laurette sitting there terrified — there’s no other word — I forgot my own terror in sympathy. I sat down by her and said wasn’t it hideous being terrified in a crowd? And she said wasn’t it? .
. . and brightened directly I told her I was an actress, too, of a sort . . . she’d thought I was just ‘society.’ She asked what I’d done, and I told her I’d played the part of many ages in ‘Milestones,’ and played in ‘My Lady’s Dress,’ and she’d seen both plays and — well, then and there she asked me to come to America and play with her. She thought I’d be useful in repertory. Of course, I didn’t know she really meant it — then.
“Do you know her?” she asked me suddenly.
“I’ve met Miss Taylor,” I answered, within the truth.
“Did you find her very shy?”
“Yes; quite — I might say very shy.”
“You’re not the American journalist -who? — But answer me this : Were you ever in a cab with her?” “Once.”
“ Now I know you!”
What little ice was left had melted.
“Write here,” she said, indicating the top of a page of my “copy” paper; “write here and we’ll make it a joint letter.”