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RITA JOLIVET IN "LEST WE FORGET
take the Bronx Park Express," he shouted in my ear. "Oh!" I said, and roared.
Catching the next train, I traveled for at least threequarters of an hour and finally landed in Bronx Park.
I wont bore you by telling you how weird it was asking the BronxParkers where 807 East 175th Street was, but at last, very much disheveled, I landed at the white marble palace of my desires and entered tremblingly.
"I want to interview Constance Talmadge," I said' to Mr. Curtis. (I found out that was his name after I had talked to him an hour.) He is the jovial gentleman who guards the entrance to the white-marble steps that lead to the inner sanctum.
"Why, Miss Talmadge isn't here ; she has gone to Niagara Falls to do 'The Honeymooners,' " he said.
"Well," I said, "what Big Star is here?"
"Sit down," he said. "I'll see if any one is in yet."
After sundry waits at the telephone, he drew up a chair beside me.
"I'm getting hold of some one for you," he said. "Tiresome trip out here, isn't it ?"
I laughed. A young girl blew in at the door and asked :
"Mr. North in?"
"Yes, go right up," said Mr. Curtis, and whispered to me: "Another aspirant for fame." Under her arm I had already noticed that she carried a book of Maeterlinck plays.
A young lady entered, said "Good-morning," and went upstairs.
"That is Petrova's secretary," said my friend. "Petrova wont be here until eleven. You know-, somehow or other, she has the saddest face."
I said I had noticed a' wistful expression in some of jT\ her pictures. Id 68
"Yes," he said, "I dont think I ever saw or heard her laugh."
"But now, there's Rita Jolivet ; she's just finishing up her picture, 'Lest We Forget,' based on the sinking of the Lusitania. She's a raving beauty. Honestly, the prettiest thing I ever saw. You know she's really the Countess Dc Cippico, and" that reminds me of the funniest experience.
"One morning a very tall man entered carrying a large box. T want to take this to Miss Jolivet,' he said.
"I was very busy and ordered, 'Take it to the side entrance.'
' 'Would you mind telling me where ?' he said, deliberately and slowly, still holding the rather heavy box.
" 'All parcels are delivered at the side entrance/ I snapped.
"'You dont understand,' he said; T am De Cippico.'
" 'Well, I cant help that,' I said, impatiently. 'Take it to the rear.'
" 'You dont understand,' he reiterated. 'I am De Cippico, Miss Jolivet's husband.'
" 'Oh !' I gasped, and said, 'Would you mind writing it down for me. I will never make the same mistake again.'
"He did. Here it is."
Mr. Curtis reached into his desk and showed me a slip of paper with a great, sprawling "De Cippico" scrawled on it.
"Later," he continued, "I found out that he was a real, honest-to-goodness count.
"But that's nothing to the uproar that went on when Fatty Arbuckle was here. It's just comedy with them all the time. If they were going on location the} would (Continued on page 130)