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Virginia Peine — George Raft— Norma Shearer
But for all this they missed the intimacy and contentment of marriage. They could not share a home. They could not have children. They could not travel together. And if a strain eventually came into their relationship, it isn't surprising. It would have been surprising had it been otherwise. For George always must have offered larger settlements than he would have offered if Virginia had not been in his life. And Virginia always must have been deeply concerned lest — because of her — George would agree to terms he would regret later on.
Virginia described their life very accurately when she said they lived in abeyance. That is exactly how they lived for seven years. For they never gave up hope.
But it was no use. All their waiting and all their hoping and all their trying brought them, finally, to that night last spring when they sat beside the bright hearth they had hoped to share, and planned separate lives.
"At that time," Virginia told me, "I suggested to George that he use the vacation he soon would be having to go to Europe ... get away . . . have some fun. It seemed the ideal way for us to make the first break."
George took Virginia's advice. He sailed on the Normandie. Half a dozen Hollywood people were on board. Roland Young. Charles and Pat Boyer. And Norma Shearer.
They headed for Paris — Paris which has long been famous for helping men and women to forget their personal torment and be gay.
If George told Norma how things were with him she understood. If George didn't tell Norma how things were with him she understood.
After a week or two in Paris, Norma and the Boyers, with whom she was traveling, went south. George went too. And what could be more conducive to a new friendship than life as it is lived on the Riviera.
While George was in Europe, Virginia
(Continued from page 13)
went to work.
"I did a play, 'Unlucky Star'," she told me, as she concluded the Peine-Raft love story. "We toured all the cities on the Pacific coast. We made overnight jumps. I ate many a dinner at a drugstore soda fountain. Between performances I studied and rehearsed. I worked. And it was good for me.
"When George got back to Hollywood I knew I must move on. Under the circumstances we couldn't stay in the same town. George has to be there, naturally. His work is there. So I decided New York was the place for me. And when I landed here and let it be known — as I have — that I wanted work in the theater or on the radio I knew I'd feel more confident — as I do — if I had an apprenticeship behind me."
George came home from Europe long before Norma did. And a week or two after his return when Virginia and Joanie left for New York he was at the station to tell them good-by.
"Go live in the house," Virginia says she told George. "The servants will take good care of you. It isn't good for you to eat in restaurants all the time when you're working."
George shook his head. "Don't you worry about me," he said. "Just take care of yourself and Joanie."
They were being very civilized and sane but even while they were parting the habit of thinking of each other first was strong within them.
In spite of all this the talk about George and Norma persisted.
So when Norma reached New York and I was seeing her on another story I asked her for a statement about the Raft rumors. That very morning the newspapers had been peppered with items and one columnist had insisted she and George had talked to each other at length over the cross-continental telephone every day since she had landed.
"I knew Mr. Raft before we crossed together on the Normandie," Norma said, flushing in that lovely quick way
she has. "I had met him casually in Hollywood.
"I know no one who has nicer manners. I admire Mr. Raft for his spirit of humility. Because of that spirit of humility, I'm sure he still has far to go."
Norma went out of her way to be cautious and reserved. Plainly! She didn't, however, say one word in denial of the rumors. And that might be construed as important.
Was the time George and Norma spent together in Europe significant, the beginning of things yet to be? Or did little Joanie Peine sum things up on the station platform the night George waited with her and her mother when she said, "I'm not going to say good-by, Uncle George. Because it isn't goodby. It's just So Long."?
These are questions only the future can answer.
Virginia Peine . . . George Raft . . . Norma Shearer. For the present there's romance and drama enough in the linking of their three names. . . .
Virginia comes from an old conservative family. She was educated in the best schools. Always her social position has been respected and secure.
Norma long has been "First Lady of the Screen" and should a title be conferred upon her in private life it would carry no less esteem.
It's different with George. He was very poor. He danced in New York cabarets. He followed the horses. He numbered among his friends men who served time as underworld figures.
But that's only the half of it. In gesture and deed George is more truly a gentleman than many born to high places. And when he scorns "the falseness of society," it is not out of pique or social inferiority. For long and often he has sent his courteous regrets to top-flight parties.
It's more than romantic and dramatic, really, that Virginia Peine should love George Raft and that in his time of stress he should have Norma Shearer for his friend. It is fitting and proper.
Subject: Lombard
(Continued from
17)
4
in your dreams when you rescue them from horses' hooves, after you eat too much pork at night.
She came downstairs in that robe, and if there ever was a million dollars cash she was it — with her right hand just enough out in front to make you wonder whether to kiss it or shake it.
Behind her was a Pekingese pup, snorting and croaking with asthma, and just as she came into the room the pup stepped on the back of her robe.
I turned the color of a healthy beet. The director smiled in appreciation, because he had spent six weeks in an art school. Miss Lombard took a sharp breath and then said "Haw!"
So we can put down that she has a good build.
The picture was starting, and I was to remain on the set working on a script I thought I had finished.
"It's noisy," I told the director. "Can't I work in my office?"
Lombard was listening. "I'll fix you up," she said.
I came back later and Lombard led me to a corner of the set where stood a small building with a crescent cut in
the doorway. On it was the identification: "Binyon's corner." So we'll have to admit the lady is a good judge of stories.
There are about twenty members in a duck club I mentioned before, and when the hunting season opens it's an excuse to let your beard grow and wear old clothes and camp in the dust and play poker and live in a world without women.
So Lombard showed up in a trailer, because there were sleeping quarters only for men. Her clothes were old, and could she grow a beard she'd have had one.
The first night the men at the poker table mumbled and grumbled about the dame in the trailer parked fifty feet away. The second night there was no poker game, and Lombard in her trailer had to send to town for drinks for her guests.
When the boys got home, one of them mentioned Lombard to his wife. She straightened. "I thought," she said icily, "that this was a club for men."
"That's right."
"Then why was she there?"
"Gable brought her."
The wife's eyebrows went up "Gable?"
"Yeah. He slept in the cabin with us and she slept in her trailer."
The wife's eyes were dreamy. "How far," she asked, "was the trailer from the cabin?"
The nr.n rubbed his head and wished he hcd hair. "Oh— fifty feet. Why?"
Tl.ere was no answer from the wife. The husband pulled at a small, ineffectual ear. "If you think — " he began. "You should know her. Why, she's as — "
"Gable," said the wife softly.
So we can put down that Lombard really picked herself a husband.
We were looking at the day's rushes. Lombard watched herself on the screen and laughed.
"What do you think?" asked the director.
"She's a goof," said Lombard. "I could cut her throat."
"That's you," said the director.
"You're telling me," said Lombard.
So three days later she signed a new contract — for more money.
You're telling me.
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