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"Off, John, please understand. I've simply got to sing/' But! John insisted that when they were married Jessica would give up her singing, completely, entirely.
DRAGONETTE
by MARY
Illustrated by T.
But let's go back to 1929, when Jessica's golden voice had already established this slip of a girl, scarcely out of her teens, as the radio queen. Men surrounded her at each broadcast; they wrote her ardent notes, the kind you would expect any young and beautiful and successful girl in the public eye to receive. One man sent her flowers each week; she got enough boxes of candy to open a store. A few men got her telephone number, and paid ardent court over the phone.
While she appreciated their interest, the fair Jessica was interested in none of them. For the time being her absorption in her work, in the daily round of practice, lessons in half a dozen languages, sufficed. Sing she must: it is because of her singing that she gave up love.
Singing always will come first with Jessica. "If I didn't sing," she told me, "I'd die."
JACOBS
D. SKIDMORE
Unexpectedly, love came into her life. While answering her fan mail one morning, she came across a note, so sincere and touching that she couldn't help singling it out.. "I've been listening to you for two years," it read, "and this is the first time I've written. I wonder if you appreciate just what your singing means to me?" There was no signature, no way of identifying the writer. The next week another note came, in the same handwriting. Then another. Then some lovely tea roses. More flowers. Candy. A book of poetry. Still no name.
Being a normally curious girl, Jessica's interest was aroused. Who was this mysterious admirer who admitted he had fallen in love with her voice? Certainly his tastes and hers coincided in books and flowers, in the little revealing things he wrote. Just when her curiosity was {Continued on page 74)
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