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THE ADULT AND THE CINEMA
Your second question re: films in dreams. Again pictures have played a very large part in my dreams; but there is one dream which keeps recurring — each time more vividly than before.
Many years ago, I saw the picture Smiling Thro' with Norma Shearer. One scene particularly impressed me: she is dressed as a bride and walks up the aisle to be married. In the middle of the ceremony there is an interruption and she is shot and dies.
Well, I dream I am dressed as a bride; am looking very, very beautiful and am walking slowly up the aisle (the centre of all eyes) . Then the ceremony begins and, as in the picture, there is an interruption. Someone shouts 'Stop!', and a man appears holding a revolver. He points it at the groom and as he fires I rush to save him (the groom) and I am shot instead. I don't feel any pain, but sink slowly to the ground. My chief feeling is one of pride to think this has actually happened to me! As I recline gracefully, I manage to arrange my frock and veil to my satisfaction.
The wound over my heart begins to bleed and as the blood runs down I think Tt doesn't look nice like that. I must make it run in another direction', which I do by moving very, very slightly to the right.
Then I place my hands in a position where my beautifully shaped nails can be seen to their best advantage. At the same time I become deadly pale, and I think 'How well this pallor must suit me. My skin must look beautiful against the ivory of my frock and veil.' This thought pleases me very much!
Then I slowly close my eyes, thinking at the same time 'My lashes must cast dark shadows on my cheeks. The effect must be wonderful.' I find I am so curious to see the result that I have to open one eye to look at the other closed one, and find my lashes are about an inch long! I sigh with rapture!! Again I think 'I'm glad I have dark hair. It makes a better contrast'.
I have then an irresistible desire to smile, but check myself in time with the thought 'This is serious! I'm dying, so I really mustn't smile!! What would people think?' So I lie there and listen to the murmurs of the crowd: 'Isn't it a shame!' 'What a tragedy!' 'Such a beautiful bride!' 'And so young, too!' — etc., etc. .
My dream usually ends there — the only difference is that sometimes I wear a different colour or style of frock; or the groom is not the same. He may appear as someone in whom I may be interested at the moment; or his features may not be distinguishable. The man who shoots may appear as someone with whom I may be annoyed; or again his features, too, may not be distinguishable.
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