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bungalow Joe watched Pola emerge in deep mourning, with the veil thrown back so newsreel cameras could record how she faced going on living with bravery and fortitude.
Shots were taken. One camerman yelled: "Pola— the light's not good on your face— will you do it again?"
"And," Joe reported to me with awe, "darned if she didn't! It's the onlv time I ever saw a retake on mourning."
Valentino having made his final exit, John Barrymore was simultaneously coming into his own as the screen's greatest lover. I was set to play in Don Juan with him. I didn't wait to be called for my sequences, but sat on the stage from the beginning, to watch him act. John always responded better when he had an audience.
I saw a rehearsal with a cloak that was as good as anything Jack ever did before a full audience. As Barrymore came on the set and faced a cheval glass, the cloak was handed to him. He flung it over his shoulders. The drape displeased him. He tried to force it to his way, but it had been designed to hang differently. When the cloak couldn't be made to submit he grew angry. Every flip of the material became like a whiplash. Plainly the cloak had the upper hand of him.
He tore it to shreds, threw it on the floor, and roared, "When you have one I can handle, let me know and I'll do the scene!"
The day of our one scene together finally arrived. I was to play a married woman who, having fallen desperately under his spell, had my own key to his bedroom. I discovered that Jack had lost out to another man concerning a lady he really cared for. So his mind was on her, not on me.
When we rehearsed he couldn't have been more charming or disembodied. But before the take he said to me, "You go ahead and act your part. Pay no attention to anything I say to you."
He shot me a devilish twinkle and away we went. If he'd used his sword instead of words he couldn't have pinned me tighter to the wall. He nailed me there with language spurted like a cobra's venom. He looked like a snake, too. Good God, I didn't have to act! The expression called for leaped into my face at his torrential words. He knew what he was doing— I had onlv to follow his lead. He crowned his barrage of expletives by running his dagger through
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