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

curls had been clipped, his round cherubic eyes gazed at her blankly for a moment as if they didn't see. Then he heard her voice and his small face broke into a smile; he wrapped his arms about her neck, he buried his head in the hollow near her shoulder. "Darling little rabbit, are you my rabbit?" David raised her to her feet. "I am famished for you," he said, holding her close. Koran clung to their legs. "David, it's no fun being away from you." He shrugged. "But you have been dancing." Yes, every day, and it was going well. Publix was giving Mae whatever she wished: twenty-four dancers, comics, jugglers, four partners, for the waltz, the tango, the rhythm number, the pasa doble. David dropped his arms. "It makes me sick at heart, you should be in my house." "The theatre is alive for me, David. Don't grieve. I'm glad to dance and I have my plans. You and Koran shall come on to me between tours, we'll have charming vacations as we did in Europe. We'll have a wonderful week now before the opening in San Francisco." He continued to sulk. "We have no choice, darling. We need the money. We need to be fluid again, then we can live on our interest and be as free as we like. That crooked manager has let the properties run down. All must be built up again, David. Absentee ownership doesn't work." "I take over," he said. "I manage everything." "David, would you? What a good idea! We wouldn't have to trust anyone outside. I could concentrate on work!" She'd never dreamed that David would want to put up with business details, but it was an inspiration. He would be kept busy, and he'd feel like the head of the house. They had a week of flawless happiness. David watched while six trunks of costumes were packed, carefully, so that lace and ruffles would hang smooth. Pressing and steaming destroy materials; wrin 198