Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1943)

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1fy /Cnourmoit cdoi/t"^ Even Errol Flynn's best friend didn't know about his Mexican romance with Nora Eddington Will the man who rounds out this picture of Mickey Rooney and Ava Gardner end up by marrying her? with nuptial bindings, whereupon he went into a tailspin over Dolores Del Rio. But I maintained from the first this would never lead to the altar, because I happened to have introduced them some years back at the Jack Warners' house, when they gave one of their superlatively sumptuous soirees for about 400 of their intimate friends. It was the first thing of its kind Orson had ever attended — though he knew his way backstage through every town in the country. And when his round brown eyes lit upon Dolores, his mind said. "This is the most beautiful star in the whole firmament." Well, time marched on, and the little lady marched right back to Mexico City from which she came. And during this period, Rita Hayworth, who had come up like a skyrocket, exploded — and the sparks still keep coming. Rita was making a little history of her own, what with a divorce and her reckless romance with Victor Mature, with practically daily bulletins being sent out either from the said gent or from her studio, which wouldn't give her an increase in salary unless she stopped seeing him. When along comes our little genius, Orson. One look at her was enough — and all thoughts of living in a state of single blessedness from then on vanished from his mind. In the meantime, Mr. Welles was busy whipping up under a great expanse of canvas a little thing called a Magic Show, with his willing workers from the Mercury Theater, and Rita was the muchenvied lady who was to be sawed in two. Well, her boss, Harry Cohn, had her in a picture and he saw no reason why Mr. Welles should get all that free publicity by getting Rita's services free while he paid her salary, even though it was all good clean fun for our soldier boys to take their minds off the war. So after the opening performance, said Mr. Cohn put his foot down firmly and said, "Fun's fun — and you'll just stay away from that tent show." Now I've never known Orson to take no from anybody — including Mr. Cohn. So in a whirlwind of sudden decision, the two lovebirds rushed through spur-of-the-moment plans, picked up Orson's close friend, Joe Cotten, drove to Santa Monica, snatched the marriage license out of a clerk's hand and were married in a brief and simple ceremony by Judge Orlando H. Rhodes, only stopping long enough en route to the ceremony for an ice-cream soda at Schwab's drugstore, which they divided with two straws. And that night, cozy as you please and happy as a couple of bugs in a rug, Rita (Mrs. Orson Welles) was quietly sitting in her husband's dressing room under the big canvas, and her boss, Mr. Harry Cohn, was wringing his hands and saying, "They licked me!" Then, on the not-so-permanent romance front, we had the sentimental interlude of Errol Flynn and Nora Eddington. Although this romance is now undoubtedly as cold as a well (Continued on page 80) 31