see all kinds of people" and to the amusement parks. She's a fiend for roller-coasters that jump obstacles, for speed-boats, motorcycles and such sissy sports. At a fair in Paris, she haunted a parachute-jumping concession and made 12 descents. "Ahhh!" she breathed in fond memory, "C'etait formidable. It wos be-J)oo-i-ful I" That's all right for one side of the family but she has grounded her husband, who was an ace in the famous Squadron 77 during the war. It's perfectly correct to fly for your country, she told him, but foolish to fly for fun. In return, she promises not to ride motorcycles any more. She got a taste of rough-stuff in her dialog test at Universal when William Gargan hauled her out of bed and shoved her around generally. The French girl didn't blow a line of six pages of script. She said she had memorized it in two readings and knows her lines in French said wonderingly. "Wat can they do?." She prophesied gloomily that the censors "you have ter-rible ones" would cut everything out of her French pictures when they are shown here. Studio representatives are trying diplomatically to censor her newly-acquired slang, too, at least in public. She says demurely, "I do not use slang because I do not know w'at is slang and w'at is not." She lately learned "Shut up" from Charlie McCarthy and has stored it away for future use. "He was so droll, the little man he makes with his fingers," she said, as pleased as a child. "He makes eet go 'mi-mi-mi' like that. An' then he makes eet say 'Shut-tup 1' I lil(a that 'Shut-tup!' " She repeated it to herself, perfecting it, beamed and rattled off: "Shut-tup get out fine sure swell okay okay Tootsl" Americans certainly will be able to understand her.