Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1938)

Sincerely Yours (Continued from page 29) me by trying on all my things and I couldn't do a thing to her because I was afraid she'd rumple my coiffure. I wore my garnet velvet which is very sophisticated on account of it hasn't an unnecessary inch, and Barb wore her ice-blue satin and a Juliet cap — Sweetness and Light like her darling. The men wore the conventional soup and fish. Had my nails done ox-blood and wore Henry's class ring backwards so it looked like a wedding ring. Frank borrowed his brother's car from the fellow in the garage and we started off for the Peacock Bar, having a wonderful time all the while singing "Thanks for the Memory." While they went to find a place to park we went inside and sat right at the bar, acting older. Neither of us likes hard liquor, but we ordered sherry cobblers. Next to me was a very nice elderly stranger. We started a conversation but he didn't make a pass. One thing led to another and I told him all about myself, not a word of which was true. I informed him he was the identical image of Alan Mowbray. "Do you know Alan?" he asked. "Not in person," I said. "Do you?" "No," he said, "I don't, so that should constitute an introduction, our both not knowing the same person." I agreed heartily. Then I told him he ought to get a job as stand-in and he said he hated standing so his father had bought him an aisle seat on the stock exchange. I asked him if he would give it to a lady and he thought that was clever. We went on to discuss various problems of Life like double features and pacifism and what is love really. DY that time the boys arrived and we had to be civil to them, they being our escorts. I just hoped Henry's voice wouldn't crack because there is nothing more mortifying to a girl than to be out with a gentleman whose voice suddenly goes back on him. Henry said we would have to be scramming, as we had promised to meet Marj at the restaurant at seven and it was half past. So the Mysterious Stranger and I bade each other farewell and I shall never see him again unless fate twists the strands of our lives so they cross each other again, or unless I drop into the Peacock some Thursday at 6 o'clock because that is when he is sure to be there. The boys wanted to go to a jam session, but Marjorie said the true gourmet doesn't dance and dine at the same time. So she had reserved a table at Chez Maurice's where the atmosphere is very Continental and the food is really intime, besides it being the rendezvous for lots of celebs. Marjorie looked very chic in black satin with orchids. She is an authority on the Theatre, as she reads Variety. Marj's fiance is at Columbia studying to be an eminent surgeon and everybody calls him "Doc." He kept talking about ideology and The Five Star Plan so 1 guess he's a communist. Nowadays lots of communists are very nice people. Of course Henry and Frank had no idea they were being William and Clark, so that made the conversation rather peculiar because the things we girls said went right over their heads. The dinner was swellegant, all kinds of French dishes. During the spaghetti Joan suddenly grabbed my arm: "Myrna," she said, "look. Are my eyes deceiving me?" I followed the direction of her gaze and lo! who was sitting there but Frederic March! It was unmistakably himself. He looked exactly the same off as on, only more so. Naturally we couldn't take our eyes off his back which was facing us. We lost interest in the food (except the spumoni) and the boys kept kidding us but we didn't pay any attention to them but held a conference as to how to proceed. We agreed that it would be undignified for all three to go up to him, so we decided to draw lots as to who should have the honor of contacting him for the signatures. Well! Lady Luck smiled on Ye Scribe! I pulled the short match! Marjorie suggested that I say I was writing an article for my college paper because if I just said I was the press he might think it exaggerated. Wi E went to the ladies' room to retouch my face. The girls were wild with envy, but I didn't envy myself. Frankly, I was petrified because although I had carried on a correspondence for years with important stars or their secretaries, I had never really talked to one. I put Doc's fountain pen and a menu in my purse and took a big gulp of Chianti to fortify myself. Then I approached his table slowly because I didn't want him to think I was in a hurry. I assumed an air of sang jroid. "Good evening, Mr. March," I said in a pleasant but not gushy voice. He rose from his chair. He has perfect manners. He was wearing a blue suit and a dark blue necktie. He said: "Good evening." His voice was divine. Just like in "A Star Is Born." "How is Mrs. March and the children?" I asked kindly. I should have said "are" but I don't think he noticed. "Very well, thank you," he said and then there was a pregnant silence. He looked at me and I looked at him. Finally he said: "Won't you sit down?" I sat down. He offered me a cigarette. I was about to smoke it when fortunately I noticed it had his initials on it, so I put it in my bag and said I guess I wouldn't smoke it just yet. "You must pardon me for intruding," I said, "but I am a reporter on my college paper and if you would grant me an interview I would be glad to do the same for you sometime." "That's awfully kind of you," he said. "I've enjoyed your pictures so much." "Thank you," he said, looking right at me. "Which one did you like most?" I said I loved "A Star Is Born" and I adored "The Buccaneer" but I thought I liked him most of all as Mark Antony. He looked at me strangely. "I've never played Mark Antony," he said. I could have died of mortification. Of course I meant Anthony Adverse. I told him I always got the names mixed. "Quite natural," he said, "they are very similar. I sometimes do myself." I ASKED him what his hobbies were (I knew because I had read about it only that afternoon under the dryer but I thought I'd better ask that one) and about his home in Beverly Hills and if he had felt badly when his play flopped. He said yes, he had thought of committing suicide, but had decided against it. "If at first you don't succeed," I said. "Exactly," he agreed. Then he said he would have to be running along. I took out the menu and pen and asked him if he would mind signing three times, far apart. He said he wouldn't mind, but why far apart? I didn't want to tell him I had two friends waiting, so I said one was for myself and that I was going to trade in the other two for one of Leslie Howard. I don't know why he laughed, but he has beautiful teeth. I saw he wanted to go when he rose, so I rose too and held out my hand because I knew the girls were watching and he shook it. When I got back to our table, Barb and Marj were bursting, but I wouldn't say a word until after he had left. As he walked out he looked over and bowed, just slightly, about thirty degrees, but very freindly. After he had gone I nearly passed out. Barb made me drink black coffee which I hate. After that we went to see "Snow White" which is adorable but I must confess I was in a dream all the way through and didn't even let Henry hold my hand. And, at the Rainbow Grill, when we saw Loretta Young I wasn't even excited. Doc said I had become jaded and I guess he's right. FREDERIC MARCH— Friendship J A NX L Y O N S -Friendship Thank heaven it's a mutual friendship and nothing more as I wouldn't for the world want to start any trouble. I'm going to phone Barb right now. I just must talk to someone. WE chatted with Dick Powell on the telephone the day after his daughter Ellen was born. "Is she beautiful?" we asked. A long strange sputtering came over the wire. "Does that mean she is?" we laughed. "It does," Dick said, "and if you think I'm excited, you should see my mother. She became a grandmother twice in one day. My brother's wife had a baby boy. "That's what you call a real double feature, isn't it?" he laughed. "And no 'B' production on the bill!" we added. HENRY sent my class pin back with note to wit: My dear Miss Lyons: Seeing that your interests lie in oth directions, I am herewith returning yo' pin and would ask you to kindly do tl same with my class ring and to remo' my Fieldston banner from your wi unless it leaves a mark on the wal paper in which case you can leave it u I shall be very busy from hence foi ward, devoting myself to my career ir stead of wasting time with women wl fall for every actor they meet. I ha\ important plans for the future which shall not trouble you with as you ai no doubt uninterested. Wishing you every happiness, I am, Your friend Henry Warren. P. S.— No doubt Mr. March will b glad to do your geometry for you. P P S. — Perhaps he will also esco you to the Jr. prom. I am taking Mis Bailey. h. W. I nearly passed out because whil Henry is not my grande passion he ha his points. I called up Barb and sh dropped everything and came right ove: to console me in my bereavement. Tc make matters worse I found out frorr leading my favorite magazine that it' not Frederic but Fredric. That doesn work out either! Well, anyway, Barb and I had ho1 chocolate, crackers and a conference. She thought the best thing to do about Henry was to be stand-offish and he would come around because he really cares. I wonder!! But I'm not taking any chances, because if Vera Bailey once gets her hooks in a man he's fin ished. She is absolutely unscrupulous and Henry is a push-over for flattery. Any woman can pull the wool over his eyes. So I thought I'd better write him a letter as it is no more than politeness to answer a person's letter, so I did. Dear Mr. Warren: I regret that you should have misunderstood my actions and put the worst construction on them. Honi soit qui mal y pense. There is nothing between Mr. March and myself but a purely platonic friendship. I am returning your ring which you will have to have enlarged before presenting to Miss Bailey. All the other men did. I have three invitations for the Jr. Prom and also a previous engagement. If you don't mind would you please have the kindness to return my Caesar pony and that pink chiffon handkerchief which you said you wanted to keep forever that night in the canoe when the moonlight was so divine and you said that Life was throbbing with a certain Something and I agreed with you. Yrs. truly, Jane Lyons. Henry called up last night and everything is hokey-pokey. We are going to see "Happy Landing" tonight because he likes Sonja Henie and he's taking me to the prom. Whoopee. I guess I won't write for that photo of F. M. I'll regard it as a dosed chapter. The pert chatter of this little dyed-inthe-wool movie worshipper and her very best friend will be continued in another chapter of her autobiography to appear soon in Photoplay. 72 PHOTOPLAY