light of the room. Below, in one of the apartment's four fireplaces, a small log is softly burning. This room, like the rest of the large, immaculate home, is furni

er, regal form resting comfortably in an antique chair, to talk about her best-selling autobiography, No Bed Of

Suspicion (1941). She had the joy of raising two children - one of them adopted - but the disappointment of four divorces. Her mother, who died in 1975, was the best friend she has ever known, yet both her father and her ste

she has suffered through numerous illnesses and injuries that brought her close to permanent disability or death.

ith trying to bring up children alone. Some people empathize because they had harsh relations with their siblings. A lot of men have told me t

h one of them. ... It's not a sordid book; it's not tacky. One reviewer said it was

a formidable presence on the screen, and is no less so in person

can remain happily married for a lifetime, she replies: "It depends how hypocritical they are, and how much lyin

s little respect for television as a medium: "I consider it nothing more than B pictures. I think we took a little more care with B pic

s to be choosy. "The quality of the scripts is so poor. I think it's the taste of the times. It's a brutal world; it's a vulgar world. ... I

er theatres and in college auditoriums around the country. Recently she returned from a three-month

new acquaintances, Fontaine is also a gourmet cook. "At Christmas I cook for about 75 people. No one married can come. I'm thrilled that one of m

an hour and a half. It's more like a film reading than a lecture. I do one on American poets, and one on Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning - all their own words. Then a new one has crept up -

**

ER BETT

women's liber