Woman in Black

Hollywood guides linger loquaciously in front of the tomb of Rudolf Valentino in the Hollywood Cemetery. Every year, they say, on the anniversary of Valentino's death, a mysterious, thickly-veiled Woman in Black is driven to the gates by a chauffeur, alights, places a bunch of red roses on Valentino's tomb, dabs daintily at her eyes with a black-bordered handkerchief, departs. Last year there came also an old man with a beard, a grey skull cap and a staff of yellow ribbons, who knelt and prayed, then played The Sheik of Araby on a mouth organ. On the Valentino anniversary last week, photographers swarmed around the Hollywood Cemetery like bees on jam. One Woman in Black was waiting when the gates opened. Two more arrived at various times during the day. The photographers phlegmatically took pictures of the prettiest and blondest dabbing daintily at her eyes with a handkerchief.

At the end of the day the legend of the Women in Black was more Hollywood than ever. Russell Birdwell, chief press-agent for Selznick International, told a story: Ten years ago, when he was producing one-reelers on the Hollywood scene, he paid a blonde young lady $5 to pose by the Valentino tomb. The story of the annual visit he made up out of his own head. When the first Woman in Black showed up next year with her bunch of red roses, no one was more surprised than Russell Birdwell.

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