The self-enchanted : Mae Murray : image of an era (1959)

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Mr. Dillingham walked along with her to her dressing room. The florist had just left a large box at her door. "Irene comes back tomorrow," Dillingham said. "We'll never forget what you've done for us, Mae. Open your flowers." He took a gold knife from his watch chain, and slit the string with the blade. There were dozens of American beauties from him and Irving and Vernon, and tucked in widi the flowers was Dillingham's check for five thousand dollars. "You're disappointed?" he said, studying her face, and laughed when she turned pink and said no, she was pleased, delighted. Three weeks, five thousand dollars, from one of the top musical producers — it proved she was somebody. Wait until Jay heard this. Dream world indeed! But he wasn't at the stage door or at the Sans Souci that night. Or the next. He dropped out of her world as abruptly as he'd dropped in. She went to a party at the DeSaulles' a few weeks later just in the hope of seeing him. Jack had invited her to a dozen parties and she'd refused; but Jay would certainly be at this one — forty guests, the Broadway crowd. Olive and Marilyn had promised to wait and go with her after her first show. The three of them piled into a cab made a picture, all blueeyed, all fair, two golden and Olive's chestnut hair in long curls caught up with jeweled pins. Their fragile chiffon dresses billowed with every puff of air. Mae's gold hoops swung from her ears; she looked like a gypsy, Marilyn said. Soft spring air enveloped them as they stepped from curb to lobby. The girls nudged each other as they walked into wide lavish rooms filled with chatter, laughter, music — all the noise stirred into a mighty beat by the drummer who wielded his sticks exuberantly. It was a two-story living room and dining room, hung with brilliant chandeliers. The orchestra played on the balcony and over the balcony rail hung a thick crimson Oriental rug. Large Buddhas in wood and ivory sat on polished bases surveying the scene with ambiguous eyes. No sign of Jay anywhere. Everyone was very gay; in the whirling room they seemed a bit unsteady. One glittering girl swayed past 18