Of course she will work without him. She has to. The director knows this. So does she. But he has to handle her diplomatically, to say the least.
He would like to come out and say: “You will work with any leading man they give us.” But he doesn't. He knows the temperament of the feminine star.
He summons all his reserve to his rescue and speaks to the lady in cooing words. He brushes her ruffled fur the right way. Exasperated husbands might take a fine example from him.
After a few minutes talk he has succeeded in convincing the lady that Such-and-Such has So-and-So beaten eighty ways as to general ability, furthermore, his contrasting complexion shows her off to much better advantage.
Then the star, thoroughly convinced, cheers the director up with such an answer as: “Oh, all right, if you insist, but I did want So-and-So.”
She wouldn't dream of giving in and showing the director he was right. The director doesn't get such satisfaction. But if he's wise he doesn't bother about it.
And so the work of production can go on. One day while the director is working in the cafe setting, which may be erected to represent a Parisian cafe an extra will come up to him and tell him that it is all wrong.
“Because,” he will say, “I've been in a cafe in Paris.”
“Well, were you in all the cafes of Paris?,” the director will politely ask.
“No, but this one didn't have—”