Motion Picture Classic (Jan-Aug 1919)

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By SUE ROBERTS Mollie King’s beauty is breath-taking, the sort of pink-and-gold and baby-stare beauty that you read about but dont believe in. Her sof t, dark eyelashes frame eyes of hazel hue. Golden curls peep from beneath enormous picture hats Out in front we were shown to a table in the very center of the roof. The show was a very brilliant one, but we waited uneasily for Mollie. Her brother, Charles King, appeared and was the object of much applause. Finally we could stand it no longer. We tripped down some dark passages, hemmed in by canvas scenery, until we reached an open space directly behind the stage. Here stood statuesque chorus-girls, gor geous in their stage plumage and beautiful in spite of rouged faces and carmined lips. Mollie King’s dressing-room was gayly pointed out to us. Four chorus-girls were peacefully reposing on Mollie’s couch. Mollie’s maid was serving them with refreshments, while the queen and star of the show sat in front of her light-studded mirror doing her own hair, {Continued on page 89) j “I feel like wearing jewels. Where did I leave them?” said ollie, feverishly fumbling around her boudoir. We looked worriedly about. Precious jewels might be peep'g from the rosy, lavender lace coverlets that draped the cool, lory-colored bed. Maybe they were caught in that deep pink nopy of silk and lace. Surely that was a diamond that jieped from the cunningly simulated rosebuds that ornaented the floor lamp. But no, from the same white commode from which, pagician-like, she procured the boxes of candy, Mollie rew forth a jewel-case and, carelessly slinging it over x arm, said she was ready. !And, from out of all this exotic materialism with which e public had endowed its darling, Mollie King’s eyes joked at us, round and expressive of childhood, raightforwardly, deprecatorily, smiling with good feljivship. We left her at the stage door. The steel-cut buckles on her lall black pumps sparkled as she tripped in. ‘‘Be sure and 'me back and see my dressing-room, wont you, dear?” she ;lled, as she entered the mysterious back-stage regions. 1/ ( t^'ifly one) White