Winkworth’s estate from the vulgar world, I understood why at least one of the Pasadena coppers had been sent to this so-called set. In all his uniformed glory, he stood guard at the gate. I guess the regular gatekeeper wasn’t tough enough for the job. Or perhaps the picture-makers expected violence to erupt on the set and needed men with guns to quell it. Ghastly thought. The policeman, whose badge said his name was Thomas J. Doan, approached the driver’s side of the machine. “Name please?” he snapped. It didn’t sound to me as if he much wanted to be there. I understood completely, as I shared his sentiment. “Mrs. Majesty,” said I, similarly snappish. He lifted a clipboard I hadn’t noticed before and scanned what seemed to be a list of typewritten names. Then he squinted at me again. “Mrs. Desdemona Majesty?” Swallowing a sigh—my advice to anyone who might be reading this journal is never to make a life-altering decision when you’re ten years old—I said, “Yes.”
What do You think about Genteel Spirits (Daisy Gumm Majesty Books)?
