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As her reward in the contest, Jeanne and some of the other girls who had taken part were guests of the RKO studios. They had luncheon in the studio commissary and tried hard not to squeal when Cary Grant came in. It was the first trip of any of them to a picture lot, and they could scarcely eat, for oogling. A group of extras in Gay Nineties outfits came in; Lupe Velez stormed through the room and into the kitchen, where she selected her luncheon from the stove, then returned to a nearby table. The girls were mightily impressed with all this. Orson Welles, eating close by, summoned the publicity man who was showing the girls through the studio and asked him who the girl with the red-brown, curly hair was.
The publicity man explained and returned to the table to say in a careful aside to Jeanne, "Mr. Welles would be very much pleased if you and I would join him in his office this afternoon at four for tea."
Jeanne didn't actually swoon, but she had the general sensation. Tea — in Orson Welles' office! With her feet treading air six inches from the ground, Jeanne followed the touring party around the lot. She saw the hand props department — very interesting. She watched part of the shooting on a new "Falcon" picture. She caught sight of Ginger Rogers en route to the portrait gallery. But all this she glimpsed through the haze of roseate dreams: She was to have tea with Mr. Welles at four o'clock.
In his office, she found him to be charming . . . and understanding. He sensed her tension, her breathlessness. "Like magic? ".be asked. Without waiting for an answer he picked up a red silk handkerchief and turned it to blue. He put a bit of thread in his mouth, then a needle and pulled them out, threaded together. Jeanne laughed and forgot her nervousness.
Then Mr. Welles explained that he was looking for a girl to play the romantic lead in "The Magnificent Ambersons," and he thought Jeanne might be right. He gave -her ten pages of-dialogue, told her to memorize it and return three days later for a screen test.
The script under her arm, Jeanne turned at the door to say, "Mr. Welles, may I please have your autograph?" Her voice was very slim and apologetic. It was the first autograph for which she had ever asked.
Mr. Welles snatched a large piece of paper and, beaming, scrawled his signature. That was one of the most wonderful moments in Jeanne's life to date.
The following few days were hectic. She couldn't sleep at night without fitful dreams of coming down with measles the day before the test or facing the camera and forgetting every syllable she had memorized or tripping and falbng flat on her face.
But when the crucial moment arrived, she did none of those frightening things. (Continued on page 75)
A serious reader, her favorite authors are Shakespeare, French writers in the original. As a kid she wanted to b,e an artist, still dashes off witty caricatures of fellow-players on set.
Jeanne's signing these NAA cards we're offering on page 62. You probably saw her on covers of Coronet and Ladies Home Journal, when she was New York model, before coming to Hollywood.
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