Radio and television mirror (Nov 1939-Apr 1940)

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WHAT THE II // TAUGHT ME ALL my life I've been beautiful. /\ I've grown used to hearing * » conversation falter when I entered a room full of people, and then begin again on a changed note; to having men's eyes follow me on the street. I've known and accepted admiration since I was a child, until I came to think of it as my right. And when I married Roger I knew that he and all his friends considered him a lucky man. If I must tell the truth, I thought him lucky too. And yet, a few days ago, I woke abruptly to the knowledge that I had lost him. I was listening to him on the air when the realization came. Roger is a radio actor, and although I'm usually too busy, I occasionally listen to his programs. This particular one was a daily serial, and since I was home alone and didn't have The love-note was there, in his voice — now! My first reaction was one of fear; then came anger. 10 anything else to do, I tuned it in. Roger and the leading lady were playing a love scene. "Oh, darling," the girl's voice said, "I've missed you every minute of every hour ... I'd wake up in the mornings, and even before I opened my eyes I'd think, 'Maybe this is the day he'll come back to me.' " "All those precious moments when we might have been together — all of them wasted," my husband whispered. "Dearest, dearest . . . It hasn't been living, without you." I smiled. It always amused me to listen to one of Roger's love scenes on the air. He didn't really do them at all well — at least, I didn't think so, although everyone else did. But then, I had had the opportunity of listening to him in real life love scenes — the autumn afternoon he asked me to marry him, the moonlit nights in Bermuda on our honeymoon, the day I told him that the baby was coming. Then, his voice had had a vibrancy that he could never counterfeit — something intangible and beautiful whose only name must be sincerity. It came from his heart, not his brain. Roger was a good actor, but he wasn't good enough to put this glorious quality into his voice in a play-acting part. That went beyond good acting — Unconsciously, as I listened, I stopped smiling. "Your sweet lips," he was saying now, "the way you smile, with your head tilted back a little and your mouth turned up at the corners — and the way your hair frames your face — such a funny little face . . . I think I must love that funny little face more than anything in the world." It was really beautiful — that deep, masculine voice, with its undertone of romance, awakening in me emotions and passions I'd forgotten I ever knew. For a split second an unbearable thrill of delight ran RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR