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LITTLE MISS MARKER 221
lying around the house, drinking milk to keep my ulcer happy, and developing a three-day growth of stubble on my chin, which was necessary for the scenes we were to shoot on Monday. The telephone rang and it was Alma Morgan, Frank Morgans wife.
"We re having a cocktail party, Dolph," she announced, "and we need a single man. Come on down."
I told her that I was drinking milk, that I had a three-day growth of beard, and that I didn't feel like getting dressed.
"Come just as you are," she urged. "Your whiskers won't matter, and we have lots of milk."
So finally I got into my car and drove down the hill to the Morgans' place, which was just below mine. I was wearing a white sport coat, which made my bewhiskered face look even more frightening; but I didn't care, for I expected to know everybody at the party.
However, when I walked in, the first person I saw was a total stranger. She was a friend of Alma's and was helping out with the party.
"Come in," she said. "I'm Verree Teasdale."
After one look at Miss Teasdale, I wanted another. I thought to myself, "Look out, Adolphe, here you go again!"
She said, "What will you have to drink?"
I said, "Milk."
"Oh," she said.
It wasn't a very good start, so I tried again. "I hope you'll excuse my appearance. I'm growing this beard for a part I'm playing."
"I suppose I should know you," she remarked, studying my face, "but I'm afraid I don't remember your name."
Great! I was doing fine. My publicity man would hear about this.
"I'm Adolphe Menjou," I admitted modestly.
"Oh, yes, of course." Then she excused herself and disappeared. I decided that she must have seen me recently in The Trumpet Blows, playing the part of that Mexican Robin Hood.