“Mary first saw her at a cocktail reception George hastily threw together for the professional staff and the cast that afternoon. It was held in a lovely elegant old room in Avery Hall. Mary put on a white linen suit with a hot-pink blouse and walked uncomfortably on high heels down through the pines. She was frankly curious. She had only seen one or two of Margot Chandler’s films, but over the course of the years, and the course of numerous husbands, the star had become something of a national ...institution. She represented, to Mary’s mind. The Hollywood World. What would she be like? She was, to begin with, exquisite. Small and delicately made, she wore a simple black dress that Mary realized must have cost the earth. She may have been forty-five but she most certainly did not look it. Her pale hair was soft and shining, her skin was fresh and unlined, her figure slim and flexible. “Good heavens,” said Mary, as she was introduced by George, “no one is ever going to believe you’re Hamlet’s mother.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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