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ix Foreword I made two pictures with Clifton Webb, Titanic and Stars and Stripes Forever , but I really got to know him when he invited me into the social circle that centered around the house that he shared with his mother, Mabelle. Mabelle ruled the roost, and Clifton was happy that she did, but he had his own eccentricities. I remember an African gray parrot bundled carefully into a large brandy snifter at dinner parties. Clifton actually had several quite different careers—as a gifted dancer on Broadway during the 1920s, as a theatre star in such plays as Noel Coward’s Blithe Spirit, as a distinctively acerbic movie star—but to me he will always be remembered as a wonderful host and friend to my family and myself. It was a job he took seriously, because Clifton’s friends were the elite of their time: Jeanne Eagels, Cole Porter, Harpo Marx. It was Clifton who introduced me to Noel Coward. People who read this book will get to know Clifton as an adoring son, as a dancer, as an actor. And to be perfectly honest, they will also get to know him as an endearing snob, for the names drop fast and furiously. After reading the book, I feel honored to have been included in Clifton ’s circle, for his chapters read as if they were written by Elliot Templeton , the character he played so beautifully in The Razor’s Edge. Templeton was supposedly based by Somerset Maugham on an English social butterfly named “Chips” Channon, but to me Elliott Templeton is Clifton Webb. It’s a loss that Clifton abandoned the writing of his autobiography, but it’s a blessing that David L. Smith has rescued it from the scrap heap and finished Clifton’s story. I’m grateful that Clifton was my friend, and I’m grateful that this book exists. r o b e r t wa g n e r This page intentionally left blank ...

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