I just arrived to my home and found my sister in tears after having watched The Sheik. She has been smitten with Valentino ever since we saw the sequel to that film last month. Apparently, she found him more luscious than I did and has not stopped playing one of the tunes that he sang, “Kashmiri Love Song”. It was played twenty minutes ago and a storm of tears struck upon her, as she cried, “WHY IS HE GOOOONE?”

Lady, it’s been eighty-eight years. Get over it. Pola Negri probably suffered more than you are doing right now. I was awed at her sudden interest in him. She is always forced to watch silent movies with me but lately she has been begging to watch more and more of his films. Yes, I find him physically attractive and admire his screen mogul persona in movies, but that cannot get to as further as adulation. This is something eccentric about my older sister and I wonder who she might get infatuated with next. It does get irritating to hear her praising him all day! I can’t get deep into this even if I could because of my loyalty as a fan to Pola Negri. I will not swoon at the sight of his carnal presences. It’s still fun to have a sister impassioned with Valentino though.

Together even in death.
Together even in death.
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