Lloyd is an ardent admirer of Charlie’s work. Also of his personality.
Harold Lloyd is to-day one of the five or six greatest drawing-cards of the screen box-office. From him I proceed logically to another name in this limited peerage—that of Norma Talmadge.
My introduction to the work of this, the greatest emotional actress of the films, came about in a way that was altogether personal and exceedingly sentimental.
One day I went up to the office of Joe Schenck, a theatrical man, who had been associated with Loew and Zukor in their earlier theatrical ventures, and whom I had known for some years. When I found him the first thing he did was to point out a velvet box on his desk. It was open, and inside curled a beautiful bracelet.
“Hmph!” exclaimed I, “what’s all this?”
“It’s a present,” retorted he. “Do you know I’m engaged to be married?”
“Well, well!” answered I. “This is news. Who’s the unfortunate lady?”
“Come around to the Rivoli to-night,” he responded with a look brimming over its pride and happiness, “and I’ll show you her work. Her name is Norma Talmadge.”