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Bell said, “I offered her a ride to their hotel. Take a good look at her in the car. Then you tell me.”
Vox and her escort were staying at the Plaza. Bell and Marion had come in their J-198 torpedo-body Duesenberg, which sat only two, so he telephoned the garage to send the J-140 town car instead. Bell drove, with the silver-haired gent seated in front beside him, and learned nothing, as the man spoke no English.
“Well?” he asked Marion as they pulled away from the Plaza. “I saw you talking quite intimately in the mirror. What did she say?”
“We had a lot to discuss, having made an entire picture without ever meeting.”
“What did she say?”
Marion laid her hand on his as he shifted gears. “She said that it’s a custom in Shanghai for a woman writer to kiss a woman director’s handsome husband firmly on the lips.”
“What did you say?”
“I said we were not in Shanghai.”