Constance Bennett

DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS, JR.

Constance Bennett is afraid of any and all kinds of insects! That, I believe, is an informative sentence that will leave the civilized world literally gasping for its breath. This is really an exceedingly interesting comment on the personality of this exceedingly interesting young woman.

It possesses interest, mainly, because, to all outward appearances, she is so entirely selfsufficient in everything that she does. I am only too well aware that the amazing disclosure referred to above is an inhibition common to most all ladies possessed with even a trace of feminine sensibilities; but the particular victim of this essay subconsciously denies and betrays all precedent. It is not, however, a discouraging or even depressing reaction on discovering that she is really human—walking and talking and, on not too rare occasions, even laughing exactly like the rest of this mortal tribe.

She is not what one would conscientiously term popular among some of the more involved social circles of the local community of satellites. The cause is not altogether mysterious when one considers with what conscientious passion some people practice the prevailing fashion of mud-slinging. It is extremely gratifying to know that the GreatGod-Box-Office clamourously declaims and even refuses to recognize this tendency. Her cinematic popularity is of enormous proportions. She does what she likes, when she likes and to whom she likes only because she believes it is the right thing to do at that time. There are, undoubtedly, many who disapprove of certain things she may do but her reasoning is so clear to herself that who has a better right to judge, after all, than she?

She maintains an inherent poise which, strangely enough, was not garnered from theatrical experience as her first professional venture was in the films; in fact she has yet to "feel" her public from across the proscenium.

Her most graceful possessions are her hands; a charm of which, I am sure, she is not unconscious (she uses them magnificently).

She has the divine gift of being able to blend into perfect harmony an exceedingly didactic business head with a flamboyant imagination. She manages to keep under admirable control a stupendously emotional nature which when aggravated takes vent in an oratorical form rather than by gesticulations. She is the perfect sophisticate in view of the fact that she retains the utter simplicity of occasional childishness.

There is no side of her to inspire one with the accusation of her being old-fashioned; to the contrary, she is neoteric to an extreme. Despite this she steadfastly refuses to have any photographs made of her that might even suggest nudity. It is really but another material piece of evidence in relation to her curious mixture of business acumen and imaginative good taste.

She is a diligent and conscientious admirer of poetry. She has taken modest flights of writing it herself.

Although she eats like the proverbial horse (employing, of course, the mannerisms of all due and accepted refinement) she stays almost too thin (a peculiar condition which arouses considerable envy among the feminine contingent). Her voice is extremely husky and verges on what is popularly called a "whiskey tenor". However, she never touches the insidious stuff of which most dreams are invariably made. She smokes incessantly. While working she is the most conscientious and the hardest laborer on the "set". But she knows when and how to relax.

Notwithstanding the fact that one may inject divers methods of saying the same word she is but one thing—grand.

My choice, of course, is meant to be the most complimentary.