"It is nobody's business," says Maria Montez: "No one has ever been able to make me reveal my age. It is no one's business but my own; it is my property, and no one has the slightest right to dispute it with me. How delightful is a woman's position as she watches people guessing at her age and hears their misleading rumors, groping blindly in the dark, while she keeps silent, her heart dancing with delight at their laughable conjectures — and no one knows the truth but herself. If a woman produced her birth certificate to show the plain truth, they would not believe her!! Better, then, to leave them to it. And beyond this, a woman's life most often turns upon a man who is its axis. She builds her attractiveness upon the foundation of a mysterious secret which secures her the upper hand in life, or at the very least an even balance. And that secret is nothing other than her age. Every man must know that the light of his life is scant; that is

why I count it folly to try to help him draw aside the curtain from this mystery that envelops me..."

"Certainly," says Joan Fontaine: A woman ought to divulge the secret of her age without evasion. I, at least, am not afraid to admit that I am close on twenty-seven — though I do not doubt there is a set of people who will be astonished at this declaration of mine and say that they have seen me on the screen since their earliest childhood and are now themselves on the verge of middle age. If a woman does not announce her age, people juggle with their estimates of it and add ten years to it at the least. And if anyone profits by keeping this secret, it is the actress more than anybody. A woman with no profession may reach forty-two, and yet people say she is still in the flower of youth, as though they were appointed guardians of her secret; while the actress of forty-two does not know how to fend off people's tongues, as they say she is held together with piano wires. However that may be — why should one care? There will come a time in a

woman's life when a reaction takes place within her: some may claim she is younger than she is, and then she will answer them, with pride, that she is five years older than they supposed.

"Why hide it?" says Clifton Webb: Age has no effect on me. I have known young women who looked old, through the effect of their outlook on life — an outlook lacking resolve and vigor. And I have known elderly ladies who guarded their thoughts and kept them young, and so looked far younger than their years. But I say frankly that I admire the woman who tells me, "Clifton — I have reached forty-five, but I still keep my pleasures in life." What is the reason for hiding your ages, ladies? Most people know one's age, or can come near to it — so why hide it? I once spoke to a lady of fifty-five about an exhibition held twenty-five years before, and she answered me with a sweet smile: "My nurse took me to see it." I believe this is a disgraceful thing, because memories are something a person should be proud of. There is nothing finer than to have heard the music of bygone days and to have seen what was great. Why, then, deprive yourself of the great memories that are part of your life, all for the sake of concealing the date of your birth?