Soldier No More

expected the Dark Ages to be so interesting! But let's see now . . . Joan Fontaine—no . . . Janet Leigh —no . . . Jean Simmons—

maybe . . . Elizabeth Taylor—how about her?'

Audley growled something unintelligible.

'Not for the daughter of Theodosius the Great, Alexandra dear,' said Stein quickly, with a seriousness which Roche was now able to identify as purely mischievous, aimed equally at Audley and Bradford. 'You need someone more aristocratic—

say Deborah Kerr?'

Bradford opened his mouth, but Lexy was too quick for him.

'Not sexy enough, darling. You should read the book—Galla Placidia's hot stuff, I tell you! The way she fixes poor old dummy5

Atwulf—'

' Ataulf.' Audley pronounced the name through gritted teeth.

'This is monstrous!'

'You're damn right it's monstrous,' agreed Bradford bitterly.

'Because Lexy's got it plum on target—the studio was trying to line up Liz Taylor, after they'd finished shooting Raintree County—'

'Super!' exclaimed Lexy.

'Super hell! Miss Palfrey won't have her at any price. She wants Barbara Jefford, Lex honey.'

'Barbara—?' Lexy sat up straight. 'Barbara Jefford?'

'Barbara Jefford!' Astonishment replaced mischief in Stein's voice as he too sat up. Then he swung towards Lexy. 'Now don't you dare say you haven't heard of her, young Alexandra!'

'Of course I've heard of her. But. . . she's an actress—'

'God save us!' Stein raised his hands. ' 'She's an actress'!'

'I mean a stage actress—Stratford and the Old Vic, and all that, Davey—'

'And so do I. She's a splendid actress—' Stein switched to Audley.

'—you remember her from Stratford, David? Hotspur's Kate?

Marvellous!'

'Sure she is—marvellous,' Bradford intervened. 'I'm not arguing she isn't a great actress—they're all terrific— they're dummy5

all great... but who ever heard of them in Denver or St. Louis, for Christ's sake?'

'Heard of who?'

'Hell, man—Quayle and Badel. . . and Griffiths—'

' Hugh Griffiths?' Stein beamed. 'But this is gorgeous, my dear fellow— Anthony Quayle and Alan Badel and Hugh Griffiths—she wants them in the film of her book, Antonia Palfrey does?' He paused for half a second. 'And—don't tell me—Michael Redgrave?'

Bradford's mouth opened. 'Who told you that?'

'Ah-hah! All is known to Stein ...' The Israeli wagged his head at the American, and then stopped suddenly as though an afterthought had struck him. 'But what about young Burton? If she's got all the others she has to have him—' the afterthought was transferred to Audley '—Burton above all—

right, David?'

Audley frowned. 'Burton who?'

'But you must remember! He was the fellow you liked so much once you found out he was a rugger-player. Didn't he have a trial for Wales, or something? And you said he'd come down in the world, to play the lead at Stratford?'

'Eh?'

'I don't know what you're talking about either,' snapped Bradford. 'But you're right about Richard Burton—in fact he's the only one they agree on, Palfrey and the studio. But who told you about him—the Palfrey cast list is supposed to dummy5

be ultra secret—who told you?'

'No one told me.' Stein continued to look at Audley. 'But David there knows. He's just playing dumb, that's all.'

Audley drew himself up stiffly. 'I am not playing dumb, damn it! Burton . . . yes, he was an actor from somewhere—

but I can't be expected to remember actors' names. I don't go to the theatre.'

'You did once. In fact, you did several times—with me—to Stratford. . . in fact. . . in fact, I taught you to drive that summer, in that terrible old car of yours—'50, or '51—and we were staying with those girls in that cottage near Banbury . . .

and you drove home every night drunk as a lord—damn it, David . . . the Stratford season we went to—' Stein spread his hands and looked around for support '—he had these tickets for the Stratford Shakespeare season, and