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IIM THE DEAR . DEAD DAYS
GOME FOREVER THJXMR HE/kVEIM /
H'
E GAZED dreamily at me across the dimly-lic drawing room. It was a beautiful room, yet when I looked into his eyes I knew that nothing was too beautiful for DeLacey Lefkowitz, the Screen's Greatest Lover. As he spoke, he puffed languidly on a slender Russian cigarette, named Louie.
"So you are Beatrice Barefax from the Mirror.' And you want me to tell you how I became the Idol of Fiimdom.'"
"You must have had a romantic past, thing like Foibles of the Flesh!"
"\ was not always a prince of passion His voice was soft, almost vagabond-loverish. "Oh, Mr. Lefkowitz!" I sighed. "Perhaps I should tell you a little about my father. He was somewhat of a — as you Americans say — Don pian, in his time."
He indicated an oil painting above the fireplace. 'I don't often speak of my father," he said. "I don't blame you," I replied, shyly.
'ITH half -closed eyes, the toast of millions unfolded the story of old 'kunnel" Lefkowitz, a southern gentleman, who wooed far below his station. Early in his life he had spurned the attentions of aristocratic members of the "social set" for the simple charms of Nellie Gwenn, a social worker. Though of humble birth, she was rich in those qualities which go to make up noble womanhood and a Harold Bell Wright novel. She was good to look upon, or
Presenting a personalityplus interview as they used to be written in the days of the silent movie
By LEO TGWNSEND
at. Her eyes were pools of alabaster, and her golden tresses fell in waves over her shell-like ears and down a long descriptive paragraph.
It was into this happy union, on a rose-scented day in June, that DeLacey came. But that was the South for you, especially in those days.
M
I exclaimed. "Some
he stated simply.
Y EARLY childhood," continued the great lover, "was marked by my extreme youth." A reminiscent smile flickered across his features, and he lit another slender Russian cigarette. I wished he would offer me one.
One when DeLacey was very young he ran panting into the house from the Lefkowitz stables, where he spent many a morning listening to the homely philosophy of Eradicate, the old Ethiopian caretaker.
"Mother," he shouted, "there's a new horsie-worsie out there! Missy Bluebell has had a colt!"
"That's nothing, dear," admonished his mother, "lots of horses have coltie-wolties."
'Eradicate said a stork brought him. Did a stork bring me, mamma?"
"No darling. God brought you."
"Does God bring everybody babies.-*"
"Yes, dear. Why don't you go out and play?"
'Then why doesn't He bring Eradicate one? I'm going out and see if Eradicate wants a baby."
"No, DeLacey. I'm afraid you don't understand." \Coutinued on page 89}