Jean on Franchot, Part 2

"I love his laugh and his smile.

Because I was very young and Franchot's what people call a man of the world, the hazards of our marriage were delightedly estimated by those who fill the lack in their own lives with an acute interest in the lives of others. We've confounded the prophets so far. Sometimes I think we've even confounded ourselves.

There are times when Franchot's every virtue seems a fault. When I wish his independence would crack, when his over-generosity would stop and go into reverse. I don't mind the exciting few times his control has burst wide open and his quiet evaporated in an outraged roar. There are times when I wish his tie would be crooked, his suit wrinkled. And then I think of the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when we're laughing together—or glow when he likes a new gown. I see the charming casualness of his perfect manners, feel the dependability of his tact, diplomacy and forbearance. So what if he does like a symphony better than having a crowd for dinner? Prefers a sneak preview to a premiere? What if he does prefer going to the races to going dancing? And bets the horses with more enthusiasm than know-how? My thrifty soul capitulates before his guileless smile when he hands me the uncashed tickets, saying merely, "I forgot to tell the horses I was on 'em."

You can't resent a man just because he looks like a "Man of Distinction" at the breakfast table when you've seen him, with infinite patience, console his son when his favorite toy was broken, or discipline his first-born with firmness, when a toss-off would have been easier by far.

As Franchot's wife I've come to respect a lot of things which, when I was a youngster, seemed unimportant. It was inevitable, I suppose, that I first resisted his attraction for me—disliked him, even, because of it. Perhaps in a vague way I realized the enchantment his even-tempered, almost casual way would throw about me. It's no longer enchantment—it's real. I guess through all of this I've been trying to say what is fully said in a simple sentence. Franchot is civilized. That's his burden—and his glory. It's my pride and my cross."

Jean Wallace Tone

Read Part 1

Source: "Franchot's Femmes: Four Women in His Life Tell All, About the Suave and Elegant Mr. Tone." Screenland. July 1948. Vol 52, No.9.Page 42-43, 64-65.