We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
of the
Bebe Daniels
Tells Her Untold Tale
The cold and ghastly shock of that discovery overwhelmed me. Then he told me about it himself. And I didn't know what to do, where to turn. Caught up as I was in the strangle hold of my own emotions, brought up to believe that black is black, white white, right right and wrong wrong, with no middle ground possible, the romance with this man I loved seemed to be one of the things one simply doesn't do.
"I told him we would have to end it all. Childlike, really. It seemed so dramatically easy to say, so terribly impossible to do. He said that so long as I loved him it would never end. And he pleaded with me to go with him to the Italian lake country, alone, apart, forever and forever. He drew a beautiful, haunting picture of a beautiful, haunting life, living on love, in Paradise.
" I wanted to go with him. You see, I loved him. But I couldn't. Not only did I shudder from the fear of damnation involved in such a step but I had, also, my mother and my grandmother to think of. My mother had suffered so much, worked so hard, done so much for me. When I was very tiny, a sad thing happened in my mother's life. It nearly broke her heart. She mended it and went on — for my sake.
"I told the man I loved so much how impossible it all was. And he persisted in saying that nothing was impossible, that he would never give up so long as I loved him.
"He pleaded with me. He vowed that he would abandon every hope he held, every prospect, every ambition. And always he would end his pleas by saying 'So long as you continue to love me it will never end.'
AH photo* by Richee
STARS
THE FOURTH
OF A SERIES
OF REAL LIFE
STORIES
A Dance Like a Dirge "npHEN it came to me what I JL must do. There was, at that time, a man in New York who had once told me that he would at all times be willing to do anything I might ask of him, no matter what. I took him at his word. I asked him to take me out quite a lot. To dinners and theaters, to dances. It was like dancing to a funeral march. He was as good as his word. I told him I wanted it circulated about that I was in love with him. He agreed to that, too. He was game, that man. Perhaps he saw the heartbreak in my face. "I went to the man I loved with all my heart and da.rcd to tell him, '1 am in
love with '
" He wouldn't believe me. With his face whiter than death, he refused to believe me. I persisted, 'I am! I am!' I was young and I thought I was doing f^ the right thing, the gallant thing, the only thing. Because my heart was breaking made it seem all the tighter. "Then he said, 'AH right; if you are in love with him, you are — but I shall go the dogs. Completely. I'll do everything I shouldn't do, in every way, from this day forth.'
"Of course I didn't believe him. I thought he was trying to frighten me, to be dramatic. "But he did.
" I spent a great deal of time right then going back and forth between Hollywood and New York. After the night I told him I didn't love him any more I didn't see him again for a year. When 1 did see him, he was an old man. Worse than old, he was sick to death. Dissipated. Hollow-eyed, all the joy of living gone from his face, his eyes. {Continued on page 82)
17