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Most people won’t talk about rented
A COUPLE of months ago an elderly couple from the Middle West were vacationing in Hollywood. Of course they wound up at the swank night club Mocambo — and there on the dance floor they spied a handsome young man dancing with the most exotic young woman they had ever seen. Imagine seeing in the flesh the star of “Frontier Gal” and “Salome, Where She Danced” — Yvonne De Carlo herself! They watched, fascinated, while the movie couple danced. Yvonne’s green gaze seemed to be locked in her companion’s, and her famous figure followed his sinuously in the movement of the rumba.
“She looks as smouldering offscreen as she does on,” said the wife, awed and delighted.
Her husband nodded, his eyes popping out of his head. “And she sure acts in love with that young fellow,” he commented. ‘^Let’s dance next to them and hear what they’re saying.”
They did — expecting to eavesdrop on molten lines from a hot-lick version of “Romeo and Juliet.”
Instead, as they passed Yvonne she was imitating a dead-end kid’s voice. “Stick with me, bub,” she was snarling in her escort’s face, “and I’ll get your name in the papers!”
The young man snarled back, “Ahhh — shaddup or I’ll hit ya!”
The elderly couple crept back to their table, shattered. How could they know that this was lovetalk between Yvonne and Burt Lancaster, new find in “The Killers”? Or that the next moment they were in a discussion of the music of Sibelius? Or that the following one they were arguing about horses?
By that ( Continued on page 72)
furs and mortgages, but who expects the usual from unusual Miss Yvonne?
Yvonne De Carlo’s pom shares a rare moment when the energy girl relaxes
BY HARRIET EATON