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By
HERBERT HOWE
"Do you s'pose they'll let us in, then ?" demands Alice.
There is no retort to this. Viola is considering suit against the saleslady who that day had fitted her with gloves. She alleges that the lady, in the course of fitting, had, with premeditation and malice aforethought, given her hang-nails.
Upon alighting in the lobby of Hollywood's chief hospice, six gentlemen — actual count — rush forward to salute les pctitcs.
Eventually, we reached the menu. Viola refused to vouchsafe it a glance.
"Why should I look at it?" she asks. "J told you I used to live here. This is spare-ribs and roast veal night."
She suddenly is seized with a morbid desire for a home of her own.
"I'm going to get married," she avows.
"So am I," says Alice.
"What type of men will be cast for the parts?" I inquired.
Alice : I dont care, so long as he's dark.
Viola : Mine must be blond. All the men I've ever fallen for have been blonds — except five or six.
Alice: I want a man with character. You know — human. A cave-man? I should say, I dont want a cave-man.
Photograph by Witzel, L. A.
"Do you know what we call one another?" Alice Lake asked. "I call Vi 'Charlie' and she calls me 'Sarah.' They expect her to be as funny as Chaplin and me to be as emotional as Bernhardt." Above, a recent portrait of Miss Dana, and at the left, Charlie and Sarah without disguise
Viola : I do. Only there isn't any.
Alice : Above all, he mustn't be affected. I like people to be themselves. I could kill a conceited man.
Referee : You wouldn't marry an actor, then?
Alice : All actors aren't conceited.
Now, there's David Warfield
Viola : Heavens, you haven't designs on Dave, I hope.
Alice (with feminine logic) : I'm not going to marry at all. Viola : You're backing out ! Alice : No. If it gets in the magazines that I want to marry, some nuts will think it is an ad and start sending me photographs.
Viola (sentimentally) : I had a (Continued on page 93)
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