QUIET LIFE

Taranaki Central Press, Volume IV, Issue 445, 28 May 1937, Page 2

QUIET LIFE

CHATEAU DE CANDE No Interviews Given (By Air Mail.) London, May 8. This is not an interview with Mrs* Simpson, because Mrs. Simpson is not giving any interviews, writes, the special correspondent of the “Baltimore Sun.” She has not granted any in the past, dsspite the fact that some plausible ones have been printed, and, so far as anyone can find out, she does .not forsee the time when she will grant any. So this is merely an account of a pleasant hour spent at the Chateau de Cande, where Mrs. Simpson has been leading the simple life for the last few months. The Chateau de Cande is about ten miles soiKh of Tours- One takes the main road out of town for Poictiers, and presently one branches off this road. And then in a matter of minutes one has reached the entrance to the driveway which leads up iio the chateau A Jolly* old peasant woman in bedroom slippers emerges from the gatekeeper’s lodge. One states.- one’s mission, and Mme. la Gatekeeper replies with a barrage of French that only a fellow-gatekeeper could digest. But the upshot of it is that she opens the gate and one proceeds up the long driveway to the chateau itself, which is simply a large nineteenth century country house* Tt is a stately driveway, though not without its share of potholes, and is bordered by large trees. Halfway up the drive stands a sinister-looking man, obviously a detective. On the right as one approaches the chateau are stables and garages, and on the left is a large guest-house. Mrs. Simpson's Host. The footman passes you into the hallway, where the butler is standing, and the butler passes you into an enormous drawing room, high ceilinged and furnished in the grand manner with sofas and chairs upholstered in brocade There one ttands wondering what is next on the programme, when in bounds Mr. Herman Rogers, followed by a bevy of dogs. Mr. Rogers is very pleasant and fr.endly, and one passss the time of day with him on a brocaded sofa. Mr Rogers is also firm, for it k his task to deal with the Press for Mrs. Simp son, and during the past winter Mr Rogers has learned a thing or two about the Press and its way; Mrs. Simplon would be delighted to medt

die. representative of ithe “Sun,” but, of course, one realises that it is out ;f the question actually to interview her, to ask her questions, to try to_ pin her down, to quote her, and so on. Really, you know, she has not got anything to say, and even if she Had the does not see why she should say it. So presently Mr. Rogers leads one hrough a maze of corridors to the library. j And there, sit to ng before a great i carvud stone fireplace, in the middle I of another sumptuous sofa, and suri rounded by high shelves of books. ) tits Mrs Simpson, looking exceedingly decorative. Smile Attractive. Mrs. Simpson rises and is cordial. Her smile is attractive. She is much prettier (than photographs of her would lead one to believe 1 . She is wearing a suit (French, not English) of a grey material trimmed wi:h blue. Her brown hair and vivid colouring go well with the suit and make the room sombre by contrast. It may be added that the celebrated Simpson coiffure has been altered somewhat. Mr. Rogers suggests ithat perhaps some refreshments would go? Refreshments appear. There is conversation of a pleasantly non-committal sort. Is it true that verybody in Baltimore now lives ou»t_ ' ide the city? And has dear old Bal- ; ’.more changed? One wonders whe_ I ther the new bridge over Jones Falls would interest her and coacludes that it probably would not .... All 'agree hrit the country round* Tours is very pleasant in the spring . . . The unanimous opinion of all three o f us is hat the wines of the region are very pleasanft, too. .. . Seems she has jeen leading a quiet life, with a good deal of golf thrown in. . . . There is some talk of London and the l approaching festivities, of the Press,, and of other generalities. The butler slides in with a huge fray of crayfish arranged row on row. The crayfish demand attention, so all this carefully casual talk of cabbages j ’nd things comes to an abrupt end. The crayfish are sticky but good. Well, perhaps it is time to be gong* One rises to depart, murmuring thanks. Mrs. Simpson graciously conceals her lack of disappointment at the prospect of one’s depart. ’ure. ... a friendly and sticky shaking of hands. . . . The indispensable Mr. Rogers (one cannot overemphasise the indispensability %f Mr. Rogers in the present arrangement T things) strolls out to the car. If at any time, etc- ... oh. to be sure, st-c . . . good-bye . . . good-bye. VARY the cut lunch by adding a drop of “Beaver” Worcester or Tomato Chutney Sauce. A piquant, wholesome relish.