The red leather and somewhat sombre respectability of the Ritz Carlton contributed an air of calm that is quite unusual in theatrical interviews, but Miss Margalo Gilmore of "Berkeley Square" succeeded in providing sufficient zest to compensate for the absent back stage excitement it was a sort of fire without the smoke arrangement which is to say that it was somewhat of a simplification of the ever-present, bold intrusiveness of an interviewer.
Since it was a rainy day, the recent football game quite naturally became a topic of conversation. Miss Gilmore said that she was a bit annoyed at not being able to be present at the weekly spectacles. "However," she added, "it was little Albie Booth at Yale that really made me football conscious. There is something romantic about his marvelous ability. It is a sort of Saint George and the Dragon, Machiavelli, Ubermench combination, and I should love to watch him play. To see him run down the field and Oh but I mustn't forget that you are Harvard men." She did not mention Yale's other distinguished alumnus, Rudy Valee.
From this the conversation quite naturally drifted to Mussolini. "The superman on the football field and the superman on the throne are two quite different things," she said. "In Europe last year it seemed that every body was insistent upon asserting his claim to the Napoleonic toga. But oddly enough the French seem to have changed their attitude toward Americans since they have acquired some money they have stopped sneering at you in the streets and confine their feelings to the family circle. And then there is always that American attitude that a young girl on the steamer rather pungently expressed She didn't like Europe 'nohow.'"
And just to prove it, Miss. Gilmore rushed gaily off to tes, nearly whisking the buttons off a comparatively statuesque doorman.