Late one afternoon, in November 1935, I was in my apartment at the Algonquin when Jeannie knocked on the door and staggered in carrying two huge Saks Fifth Avenue boxes. “I’ve been with Paul for the past two hours!” she said, gasping for breath and dropping the boxes on the floor. “He wanted me to bring them to you at once.”
I looked at her. “What are they?”
“You’ll see,” she said. “Open them up.”
“Are you kidding me, Jeannie?”
“No. Come on, get some scissors . . . hurry.”
Out of those two boxes came one gorgeous mink coat and one long ermine stole. For a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes . . . but there in the tissues was his card, Teddy . . . to keep you warm. Love, Paul, written in his boyish handwriting.
“He asked me to meet him to pick out a present for you,” Jeannie explained, “so I have been trying on fur coats all afternoon at Bonwit’s and Saks, and these were the prettiest of all. God, am I tired!” With that, she walked into the bedroom and threw herself on the bed.
“Jeannie,” I called out, “I can’t accept these. It’s not right. I’m not a kept woman. Anyway, my mother would die if I did, so take them back.”
“Not I,” came the tired voice of my good friend. “You take them back . . . or get Saks to call for them. I’m exhausted. Anyway, I think you should keep them . . . think of next winter.”
“Well, I hate to have to tell him.”
“Then don’t take them back . . . after all, you’re engaged.”
“It’s still not right. I can borrow his car, accept books, lunches, dinners, flowers, theater tickets, but I can’t accept fur coats . . .”
“Still, you go to bed with him, no?”
I looked at her. “That’s mean of you.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“Yes, it’s the truth, but I can’t help it. I love him.”
“Okay, Miss Proper Face, order me a stiff drink and I’ll return them to Saks.”
Before leaving for London, Paul had a grand piano put in the apartment so that Gene and I could practice. On his arrival in London, he immediately called on Madame Marchesi. Afterward he phoned me from the Dorchester and relayed their conversation in an excited voice. After listening to your recordings, Marchesi had said, “I can see your young lady has charm and taste in her selection of songs. She is knowledgeable about what she sings, but her whole voice needs to be smoothed out, so she can move unnoticeably from one register to the next. I cannot predict, however, if she is operatic material. Besides a voice, one needs dedication, perseverance, and character. However, there is that something there in the quality of her top register that I like, and if I like it, it’s good.”
“Then, will you take her as a student?” he asked.
“Yes, send her to me.”
And with that, my future was sealed! For a moment, I was silent, not really daring to believe what Paul had just told me. Then I heard him say, “Darling, did you hear me? Aren’t you excited that this woman, who is one of the greatest teachers in the world, has accepted you?”
“Oh, yes, Paul, I am! Only, I just can’t believe it. Thank you from my heart for doing this.”
“Well, I knew I was right about your voice from the first night I heard you. So start planning. You have time. She can’t take you until January. I’m off to Switzerland on Sunday for meetings. I miss you, Teddy. Do you miss me?”
“Yes. You know I do.”
“Bye, darling.”
“Bye, Paul.”
The minute I hung up the receiver, my whole being was flooded with doubts. Could I really do it? Could I just drop everything I’d worked so hard to accomplish, go to another country . . . and study to become an opera singer? Suppose I failed . . . What would Paul think of me? He is so used to success. Would he still love me? And how long would it take? Maybe years! But . . . he believes in me! I must try . . . even if I fail. If I don’t try, how will I ever know if I can do it?
My furious conversation with myself was interrupted by a phone call from the manager of the British Colonial Hotel in Nassau. He was begging me to return for a two-week engagement—at twice what they had paid me before. Seems some singer had disappointed them and it was a real emergency. I needed time to think about Marchesi, and I needed the money. So I went.