The New Movie Magazine (Jan-Jun 1931)

Charles Farrell first saw Virginia Valli on a huge ballroom set at Universal City. He was an extra. She was a star. His love started there — but she never knew until years later. Then they met. Fame, by that time, had come to Farrell. And their romance started. Above, Farrell on his yacht. Right, Virginia Valli. A BATTERED Ford made its reckless and noisy way across the continent of North America. At the wheel sat a young man from Cape Cod, a tanned, curly headed youth with an irresistible twinkle of adventure in his eyes. "Where you bound, brother?" asked the gas station men along the highways. "Hollywood," said the young man, and let it go at that. One does not tell chance acquaintances of gas stations of romantic dreams cherished since boyhood, of hours spent in a picture theater — by chance, owned by one's father — watching Tom Mix and Wally Reid and Richard Barthelmess in fictional deeds of glory. Charles Farrell, only son of an old Cape Cod family, had broken away from the family traditions and was bound for the new gold rush land of the cinema. He had his Ford, his health, and a few — a very few — dollars. Arriving, he became one of the great army of extra men. Three dollars a day when he worked, sometimes five, but not often. One day the fates sent him out to Universal City to appear in a ballroom scene. To Charlie the day was much like all other days to start with. Made up, he 38 TheSeven-Year Romance of Charles and Virginia By ADELA ROGERS ST. JOHNS stood about the set, talking with other extra men. When suddenly there appeared beneath the dazzling lights a vision of beauty such, as it seemed to the young man, he had never seen before. A dark, slim girl, with a pure, oval face and serene dark eyes under a madonna brow. That was Charlie Farrell's first glimpse of Virginia Valli. And it was a case of a cat looking upon a queen. For Virginia Valli was a star, a famed beauty, already at the top of the picture world. Nobody had ever heard of Charlie Farrell and he had never played anything but extra parts. From that day forth, all Charlie's dreams were of the lovely lady he had seen from afar. He had spoken to her, too, casually, and she had been kind and gracious. He noticed that while she was dignity itself, and seldom laughed, she was nearly always smiling. That soft, mysterious smile remained in his mind, flashed before him on lonely evenings, stood between him and many a girl he met and who bestowed looks of approval upon this unknown youth. VIRGINIA VALLI doesn't » even remember those first meetings on the Universal lot. She was married, very unhappily. She was busy and hard working. There was nothing to call her attention to any one of the many extra men who came across her path. Life wasn't very gay for the lovely Virginia in those days and that soft smile often hid a heart that was lonely and sad. But Hollywood moves fast. Hollywood believes in drama, in changing life swiftly and unexpectedly. The scenes shift almost too quickly for the eye to follow. The panorama amazes anyone who has time to stop and think about it. Charlie Farrell and Virginia Valli met at the Fox studio. Charlie was no longer an extra man. He was a comet. "Seventh Heaven" had been made. There is no one interested in pictures who doesn't remember that Charlie's part as the cocky sewer rat who "looked up," as that very remarkable fellow, Chico, raised him to stardom overnight. Virginia Valli was no longer a star and no longer a married woman. She had left her husband some time before. It was a severe wrench, because Virginia believed in the "forever and ever" part of the marriage service. But it had to come and she knew it. Someone, in the course of the passing days, introduced the two. Miss Valli smiled — politely and without interest. But Charlie was for the moment dumb. A warm tide of memory swept over him. Always this girl would carry the halo of those young dreams. He