Cross-Generational Romance at 24 Sussex Drive

Source: THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jason Franson
Source: THE CANADIAN PRESS/Jason Franson

Canada’s “White House” is not well known in the States. Ask an American who the Prime Minister of Canada is and, until recently, those who did not shrug helplessly would answer “Pierre Trudeau.” Today Canada has a new Prime Minister with a very familiar name–Justin Trudeau. Yes, the same family. Pierre’s late-in-life eldest son.

Source: 1971 file photo. Fred Schiffer/Vancouver Sun [PNG Merlin Archive]
Source: 1971 file photo. Fred Schiffer/Vancouver Sun [PNG Merlin Archive]
Back in the early 70’s when Americans were still reeling from Vietnam, the assassinations of JFK, RFK, MLK and MX, Canada was shocked to hear that their jet-setting, playboy P.M. had gone away for some skiing and came back married to the daughter of the country’s former Fisheries Minister. Shocked because Margaret Sinclair was only 22 years old to Trudeau’s statesman-like 51 years and balding head.You can see Life magazine’s spread on the wedding here.

Throughout the 70s Margaret Trudeau would almost single-highhandedly put Canada on the map for Americans at least.

At their wedding, not only did Pierre see his bride looking lovely but she did so in a gown of her own design and manufacture. Then the Trudeaus cut a cake the she had personally baked. For traditionalists, this did not bode well for the nation. And, in many ways, the traditionalists were right!


But in the beginning the Trudeaus were happy. Margaret popped out three adorable boys with trendy names–Justin, Sasha and Michel. She openly breastfed them all–at dinner alone with her husband she was known to put a linen napkin on the baby’s head to keep from spilling food on them! But soon enough cracks, predictably, began to appear. Margaret was restless, Pierre was busy. He came home exhausted and put on comfy old clothes and wanted to relax. She dressed up for his arrival and wanted to…ahem…well…she was young…. Let’s say “party” and leave it at that. But for a decade or so the boys kept their parents together. In spite of his previous playboy image, Pierre Trudeau was a devoted and loving father. Justin Trudeau loved camping with his father and the intimacy it afforded them.

Link to book:
Link to book:

When Margaret Trudeau later wrote a gossipy tell-all book about her life as the chatelaine of 24 Sussex Drive [i.e. the Canadian White House] it included sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll and much more. Not only did she party with the Rolling Stones, she flirted with Princes Philip, Charles and Andrew and incited the tabloids to speculate that, at least with Charles and schoolboy Prince Andrew, things may have gone beyond polite state dinner monotony-relieving flirtation, which did not please the P.M.s handlers. Nor did the book’s story of snuff-induced sneezes sending shots of snot a-flight appreciated. In short, the Canadian first lady was a loose canon who at times made the later antics of Di and Fergie [the first Fergie, not the singer] seem like harmless boarding school fun.When the divorce seemingly inevitably hit, the boys stayed with Pierre and Margaret went on with her life. She would later write yet another memoir to try to explain herself. [I have not read that one.]

As a teenager I read the book avidly. We had a copy still of the Life magazine with her wedding in it [we had random stuff like that at our house!]. I thought it very romantic that she made the cake and dress and I was a total sucker for an older man–younger woman romance from the day one. I was disappointed in the book to read how much of a partier she was. Later I couldn’t help but wonder if, like Diana saying she loved the country life when she hated it, if Margaret claimed to be a true homebody and then, ring on her finger, went back to her old ways.

Link to book:
Link to book:

Time marched on for the family. Sadly, Pierre and Margaret’s youngest son, Michel, was killed skiing, but the new Prime Minister has not only one living full brother, Sasha Trudeau, but also a much younger (by 20 years) half-sister. For Pierre Trudeau went on to have an affair with Liberal politician Deobrah Coyne, 37 years his junior. Together the couple had a daughter, Sarah, now 21, who was not exactly hidden even if the two families were never formally blended. You can read a little more about Deborah Coyne here. The new P.M. also has two half-brothers from his mother’s later marriage.

So Justin Trudeau, with only one close-in-age wife and three legitimate children ONLY seems like a fine young leader for Canada–a country know for civility and “live and let live.” I don’t think Canada has to fear Mick Jagger stopping by. Will and Kate would probably have a good time though–they could all swap parenting stories and watch the kids play together. Sedate, normal things like that are in store, I’m sure.


The moral here is simple. If you thought Canada was a land where all people did was watch hockey and eat french fries and cheese curds swimming in gravy, you were wrong! While Coyne’s new memoir is raising the stakes a bit on politician’s personal lives, the Canadian national persona of respect and tolerance lives on. It will be interesting to see if Canada’s national press plague the new P.M. with stories about his later father’s baby-mamma or if they will respectfully follow the P.M.s own family from a suitable distance and keep their focus on his policies. I’m betting on the latter scenario, eh? Pass the poutine please and turn up the hockey. Merci…..

For those interested, you can view the new Prime Minister’s maternal family tree is the subject of today’s post at the excellent blog Esoteric Curiosa.

Cross-Generational Romance in Real Life: Andrea Mitchell and Alan Greenspan

If you skip to 58 seconds into the actual video, you’ll see this power-couple having a little fun.

If you follow celebrity gossips sites like People or London’s Daily Mail you can see lots of the “Trophy Wife” variety of Cross-Generational Romance. I don’t cover a lot of those because most were the cause of a divorce. Not a good thing. Most such relationships also don’t last. But to my mind we have the wrong idea of a so-called trophy wife.

To me, MSNBC’s Andrea Mitchell is the 21st Century Trophy Wife. The kind of trophy wife men should desperately want. Why:

  • She’s way attractive.
  • She dresses well.
  • She’s always immaculately turned out.
  • Her hair looks great.
  • She’s very bright.
  • She’s well-connected.
  • She’s at the top of her profession.
  • She’s professionally respected.
  • She hobknobs with the truly great.
  • She’s earned her own financial security.
  • She makes wise choices.
  • She’s well educated.
  • She’s well dressed.

That list appealed to Alan Greenspan–once called “The Nice Man Who Manages The Money,” that is the guy who was in charge at the Fed during the good years of the US economy during the Clinton administration.

I see much here to commend Mr. Greenspan’s choice of a wife. According the the NYT he was married before but for whatever reason that was annulled and long-forgotten. He gets a do-over in my book. Plus he studied at Julliard so that absolves him in my book. And then there’s the fan-dam-tabulous way he managed the nation’s Reserve. I lived high under his reign. Sadly, I make the same salary today as I did 5 years before the end of his Fed-reign.

My take on Alan is a bright, quirky guy with a devastating sense of humor. You catch a brief hint of that at the end of the ice-bucket video. The kind of guy who would hand you documents in a a deadly dull meeting with a joke on top that, once you’ve read it and hidden it, makes you simultaneously suppress both a coronary and a need to pee. The kind of joke that means everything he says for the rest of the meeting will have a double-meaning. The kind of joke that means you cannot. CAN. NOT. look him in the eye again in that meeting, except he’ll force you to do just that. That kind  of humor.

I like to hope he has some secret way of relaxing, beyond drinking Scotch and reading economics journals. Like binge-watching Laverne and Shirley dubbed in Hungarian. Or doing really crappy paint-by-numbers paintings and framing them for the master bathroom suite. I bet he sits around watching t.v. in 40 year old boxer shorts and a sweatshirt. What do I know! It’s just so fun to imagine this couple!

And I bet all of this type thing both endears him to his much-younger wife and drives her bats at the same time.He is supposedly, and rightly, her biggest fan, so I think she probably uses him as a sounding board sometimes for broadcast pieces about which she’s not sure. I think she loves to go away with him to place where no one has heard of the Fed–like their own home. Just to be alone with brilliance. Anywhere else on the planet he’d be recognized and they’d never be left alone.


They came to their marriage at 50 and 71, after a 12 year courtship, but a co-worker claimed they beamed at each other like kids at a prom. Their professional lives were their lives–up to that point. Ok, Andrea was divorced, but making it in television journalism requires more hours work than making partner at a big New York law firm. She had long ago decided against children in order to have that stellar career that she obviously loves. Likely she was ready to settle down–a bit. And, let’s face it, a guy who can steer the USFR can probably balance the checkbook with his eyes closed. He was a catch. Yes, a catch, even at 71. Especially at 71, when maybe he had time, finally, for a wife.


I can imagine at the beginning they penciled in dinners and had to ask people like Margaret Thatcher to take a rain check so they could see each other. I can visualize that first forkful of Chicken Piccatta being forgotten while Andrea took a call from Hilary or that the bubbles left the honeymoon champagne as Alan talked to the Chancellor of Germany. And then, because that was normal to them, they’d simply pick up their forks or pop open more bubbly and say “where were we…..” And they’d smile.He’d reach for her hand. Ahhhh romance.

In her book she claims claims she likes costume dramas and he loves movies with lots of car crashes. Sounds like a guy who plays Sax and clarinet, doesn’t it?  His favorite office is the bath tub– I can just picture him working in the tub while she sprawls against the wall reading research for an upcoming interview–classical music playing in the background, a nice bottle of wine on ice nearby. They are private. Very private. They don’t do the social scene. I fully support that. With no children they devote themselves to each other and to their careers.

Did I mention they both love baseball? Cute? Freakin’ adorable. I can see them watching a game in bed–him with one of those silly foam hands [that he would bug her with, of course] and she in a jersey signed by half of their favorite team, and sharing a beer! See? Adorable. Who says it’s all about the 20-somethings. Romance, love, passion hits at all ages and to all varieties of intellect.

Cross-Generational Romance in Real Life: A White House Wedding


“I am waiting for her to grow up,”

said Grover Cleveland on occasion when people asked why he wasn’t married.

The little lady in question was Cleveland’s very young ward or goddaughter, Miss Frank (aka Frances) Folsom. Her father was a good friend of the President’s and when he died, Grover became the executor of his estate and looked after “Frank.” There is actually some question of her first name, but it is believed she was christened “Frank.” History, though,  has dignified her with the more formal and feminine choice.

Grover Cleveland was our only President to serve two non-consecutive terms and that is about all anyone remembers of him (that and his use of Federal troops in the Pullman strike in Chicago, of course). Presidents were small change back in that day–as was the federal government. The whole of D.C., Congress included, still pretty much packed up and left town come about, oh, April….. There were no PACs, lobbying was still done in the lobby and photo-ops were at a bare minimum. There was no telegraph equivalent of CSPAN or MSNBC unless you count Extra! Extra! Extra! editions of newspapers. White House interns hadn’t been created yet and if they were there they were male. In short, Grover had time to kill. So, unlike the fictional widower president in the 1995’s The American President, old Grover had time to woo his gal and wed her without much fuss, no paparazzi trailing them, no intercepted cellphone calls or SNL parodies. Heaven for a politician in love, I’d say.

Once little Frankie was in college, old Grover would put on his best stomach-hiding trousers and fullest frock coat and high-tail it up to Aurora, New York, to visit her at Wells College. He doesn’t strike me as very dashing, but maybe he was witty or bumblingly sweet? Maybe it was like a Student — Professor hook-up? I hope his carriage was a back-in-the-day Porche or BMW 7 series and not an old guy Lincoln if you see what I mean. Whatever his secret, and possibly it was just simply that they loved each other, the interest was mutual for romance soon blossomed. I like to think he had asked her father for her hand at the christening. Grover, apparently a bit shy or possibly a secret romantic, proposed in a letter that I hope was sweet. I also hope she kept it all of her life. I hope when she died it was pressed with a rose or wildflowers or something that he brought her some time, the print faded, the paper a bit smudgy from happy re-reading over the many years.

Miss Cleveland, ipso facto First Lady

Rose_ClevelandMeanwhile back at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the President’s sister. Miss Rose Cleveland, served as First Lady for her brother. Miss Cleveland embarked on a literary career while First Lady by publishing essays on George Sand. Miss Cleveland is today regarded as the nation’s only lesbian First Lady. Like her later counterpart, Eleanor Roosevelt, Miss Cleveland made a home for several years with two other women. In her time she was seen as a classic “bluestocking”–or studious intellectual.

Although improbable today, neither the proclivities of his sister, nor his chasing a lovely much-younger woman, ever got President Cleveland into the 19th Century equivalent of the Saturday Night Live though I’m sure the wags of the day made hay of it after the nuptials occurred. Wikileaks never got to intercept and publish one of the couple’s loving missives–our loss, I’m sure.


The Proposal

Back in Buffalo, Frank decided to head off to Europe to celebrate finishing college. Apparently, Grover proposed before her trip. I like to think the groom-to-be wrote his bae poetry and sweet nothings in letters and peppered her with telegrams (the 19th Century’s answer to texting) reading LHK [love, hugs, kisses] even if he was really thinking LH6 [lets have ___]. So, while Gro’ was pining away at the White House, Frank strolled European streets, hopefully in a lovely linen dress and hat trimmed in pale violet ribbon with a parasol of ruffles for the sun. She certainly would have done so with a chaperone at her elbow and her Baedeker in hand. Maybe she sent G-C coded postcards to the White House. That would be sweet and fun–liven up what had to be an incredibly dull job in those days. After all, we were still a bit-player on the international scene. No National Security Agency, no terrorists, no global warming, no nukes. Grover likely did more gland-handing than anything else while in office.


419345JYS9L._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_At last, probably by letter, the date and place of the wedding were fixed and Miss Folsom returned to New York on a liner and was whisked away on a Revenue Cutter (that day and age’s version of the Coast Guard) and thence to a swank hotel in New York City to which Grover beat a hasty path. Love was sufficiently rekindled for the marriage to take place a few days later. And, happily, there was no congressional inquiry into the misuse of the Cutter.  Photo: Bride of the White House by Francis Howard Williams.

The Wedding

The wedding took place on June 6, 1886, in the White House Blue Room—which had been “converted into a Psyche’s Bower of loveliness” for the occasion. (Illustration is of the Blue Room in Lincoln’s time). [Admit it–you read that as Psychic, right? I know I did…..] Grover’s brother was one of the clergy assisting in the ceremony and John Philip Sousa conducted his famed Marine Corps Band in “the dulcet strains of the perennial wedding march” as the couple entered–Frank “leaning heavily” upon G-C’s arm. The couple, touchingly, changed the traditional vows to omit the idea of “to obey, ” choosing instead to promise to “honor, love and keep.” So much sweeter–especially when the husband is old enough to be the bride’s father. Takes the paternal aspect out of the equation. (Williams, 1886 and

(White House Historical Association)
(White House Historical Association)

The bridal gown can only be described as “Sumptuous”–think Di and Kate and you get the idea. She wore myrtle and orange blossoms, wore no jewelry and carried not a bouquet of flowers, but a pretty fan. The 49-year-old President, as statesmen do at such evening affairs, wore “Canonical evening suit of black” with a white tie peeking out from under his various chins. I expect the 19th-century male equivalent of Spanx were also worn for effect. Frances, with her lithe 21-year-old figure appropriately corseted, probably made every man in attendance suck in his gut. We won’t discuss what the wives present were thinking, but I doubt it was “how sweet,” don’t you? The pastor was just a tad this side of a gas-bag–his prayer monopolized the 10-minute ceremony, but once it was over he got to point and declared them to be husband and wife.

Like Jackie Kennedy, Frank was the subject of endless curiosity from the country. Grover having accepted paternity for a young man of about Frank’s age probably helped. And, let’s be honest here, G-C would not have made the 1880’s “Sexiest Man Alive” contest, now would he?

Let the Feeding Frenzy Begin: The Honeymoon

Before there was Jackie , there was Frank Cleveland–a 21 year old Rock Star of a First Lady–right there with Princess Di in press coverage–national obsession proportions. The country went crazy for her. Here’s proof: by the end of the 1880’s “Grover” was the 56th most popular name for a baby boy and Frances for a girl ranked even higher at 41. See?

So while the couple rushed off for the consummation devoutly to be wished for (well as much as one can rush in a landau and non-bullet train) hillbillies, rubberneckers, journalists, former slaves, tradespeople, little kids, dogs, you name it besieged their honeymoon love-shack at Deer Park Retreat in the Alleghenies. With only a police officer or two at most to keep the intruders at bay, the curiosity-seekers probably dampened Grover’s amorous intent a bit, so I hope they got to have a little love-fest in his private railroad car on the way up. Imagine having the spot of your wedding night immortalized for all time with a sign pointing to the place!

Thankfully Presidential p.d.a. selfies weren’t big at the time. the G-Man’s abs probably weren’t as great as he’d have liked them to be, but I’m sure the new Mrs. G had some lovely dainties to tempt him even if she didn’t dwell on the possibility of G being a MAMIL [Middle Aged Men In Lycra]. I’m guessing he ditched the Spanx-like undies on the train so she wouldn’t see them. I’m hoping her corset cover was pale violet–I’m pretty sure G would have been a violet and lace man. Happily, Cosmo, did not then exist so no one had to read speculation about how the couple enjoyed their first real ‘alone time.’

grover-cleveland-familyWell, to make an already long story shorter, Mr. and Mrs. G-C truly did live happily ever after–even having several early childless years (unless there were stillbirths or miscarriages to mar that time).. They had three daughters starting with Ruth (for whom it is thought the “Baby Ruth” candy bar was named) who was born in 1891, Esther (the first baby born in the White House to a First Lady)  and Marion.

27 ClevelandThis trio was followed by two boys–Richard and Francis. I like to think that Grover said “No–no way, one ‘Grover is enough’ when, in the fashion of the day, she sweetly asked to name Richard ‘Grover, junior’ [though his name was really  ‘Stephen Grover’], but that when she told him No. More. Kids. he insisted that Francis be named in honor of Mom. She would then counter and get her way so that ‘Grover’ was his middle name [She did. It was.] That would be so touching, wouldn’t it? A little ‘Frank’ without the gender confusion? Sort of Like ‘Frank Junior, junior’ on Friends!

Grover’s End

The couple stayed in love even after part of G-C’s jaw was removed leaving his mouth disfigured and forcing him to wear a rubber insert. I’m sure Frank was simply glad he lived thru the surgery which was conducted at sea on a yacht! Imagine today, well not “today-today” but in modern times, the most powerful man on Earth having surgery on a private yacht? About as likely as Sadam Hussein’s brother being head of our Navy.

G-C died at age 71. Five years later Frances remarried but chose to rest for eternity beside her sweet Grover. His New York Times obituary can be read here

Cross-Generational Romances in Real Life: Princess Mary and Viscount Lascelles

This is one of the posts that led to the creation of this blog, so I’m re-running it today. Although, sadly, we know that Julian Fellows did in our dear, sweet, doofy Anthony with a character assassination unparallelled in PBS Masterpiece history, I still totally “ship” this couple and have left them in. The story of the then Vicsount Lascelles and Princess Mary was the “Wills and Kate” of its day. But times were different. They married while her eldest brother, the Prince of Wales, was away on the other side of the world on a Colonial tour. Imagine a Royal Wedding today without the Prince of Wales! So here is the Lascelles Story.

Did a Royal Love Story Inspire Downton Abbey’s Sir Anthony and Lady Edith Romance?


American viewers of Julian Fellows’ Downton Abbey are waiting to see the wedding of Lady Edith Crawley to the much older Sir Anthony Strallan (played brilliantly by Robert Bathurst). But what many viewers may not imagine is that Fellows inspiration for the couple could very well have been the marriage in February 1922 of King George V’s only daughter, Princess Mary, to the then Viscount Lascelles (he became Earl of Harewood a few years later). [Note: Royal Weddings were becoming a big show in this generation, but not so big that the Prince of Wales had to come home for the wedding–he was in India on tour when the wedding took place.]

Henry (“Harry”) Lascelles was born in 1882 while his bride, Princess Mary, didn’t come along until 1897. While not quite as large an age gap as the “quarter century” often thrown about on Downton, it was still a substantial age difference to overcome. Many royal books describe Lascelles as “unfeeling” or similar, but according to one who should know–the couple’s eldest son, George–theirs really was a love match. Princess Mary had much in common with her famously reserved parents. King George and Queen Mary truly had a loving marriage, but had to express their love thru letters and notes (well, that and the birth of six childen in 11 years!).


“My parents got on well together and had a lot of friends and interests in common. Someone years later said to my first wife…that she had always felt sorry for my mother ‘married to that cold, hard man,’ but, though she was doubtless out primarily out to make mischief, she had it all wrong. My mother was never so happy to our eyes as children as when she and my father were embarked on some scheme together, as they often were, and my father’s advice was sought on every conceivable subject including those on which he could not possibly have expected to have a view. After he died, [25 years later] we could often see with maturer eyes that, without my father at her side, she often found it hard to cope. Until her death she travelled with photographs of him to put out whereever she stayed….” (The Tong and Bones: The Memoirs of Lord Harewood,, 27 )

At not quite age 25, Princess Mary had done her “bit” in the First World War serving, ala Lady Sybil as a volunteer nurse, (A King’s Story, p. 127) became not only the wife of the heir to one of Yorkshire’s greatest families, fortunes and houses, but also C.E.O. of Lord Lascelles domestic life–managing the household, planning the parties, transferring to London for the Season to Scotland for that Season as well as coping with the demands of two sons born in rapid succession (the younger of whom, Gerald, would share a birthday (albeit different years) with Princess Margaret). The couple shared passions for gardening (a mania in her generation of the Royal Family), horses and Italian Art (source)  and music. Her brother, the former King Edward VIII remembers that “with easy grace she became the chatelaine of his country home in Yorkshire.” (A King’s Story, p.182).


In a move that Fellows himself could have authored for Sir Anthony Strallan, Lord Lascelles fled during the birth of his son and heir leaving his hapless sister behind to entertain his Royal in-laws who arrived to await the birth of their first grandchild! (Tong and Bones, p. 2)! Lascelles also resisted the King’s urge to elevate him to the rank of Marquess. He believed “Marquisates died out quicker than any other title and he was keen to provide himself and his ancestors with heirs! (Tong and Bones, p.2).


Princess Mary and her family were often involved in Royal events. Her son recalls the pride he felt in seeing his father ride with the King and the Prince of Wales in Trooping the Colour,(Tong and Bones, p. 6) Both the couple’s sons had roles in their Uncle, George VI’s coronation–George as Page to the new King, while Gerald served their Grandmother, Queen Mary. The Lascelles family remained visibly in the Royal Family until the early 60s when George’s marriage broke down and a son was born to his then girl friend. Following a very rare (in those days) Royal divorce the couple quietly married her in the USA. George became a leading figure in the world of Opera–prompting a famous quote from his uncle, the Duke of Windsor:

very odd about George and music. You know his parents were quite normal —
liked horses and dogs and the country.”
source: Getty

By the end of the 1970s the Lascelles were again occasionally mentioned in the Court Circular–the divorce of Princess Margaret made their exclusion a big ridiculous. By the end of George’s life both the Queen and the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall had visited Harewood House to be welcomed by the Earl and his second wife. The Queen, who rarely attends funerals, was represented at George’s funeral by their younger first cousin, Prince Michael of Kent. (source)


The current Earl of Harewood, Princess Mary’s eldest grandchild, is David Lascelles, a godchild of the Queen (source). Unlike his Old Etonian father and forebearers, he was educated at Westminster where his father proudly related, he was on the First XI in cricket! He went on to become a name in the film industry and followed his father’s lead in having a children out of marriage (he subsequently married their mother) so that, unusually, it is his second son, Alexander, who is Lord Lascelles today, and who like his father will have to pass the title down to an as-yet-unborn second or subsequent son–assuming he marries!

 So happiness and a lasting legacy CAN come from a marriage of different generations!

Cross-Generational Romances in Real Life: Bogie and Bacall


Hollywood has always had its share of cross-generational couples both on and off screen. The 1940’s film To Have and Have Not brought together one of Hollywood’s happiest and best known older man-younger woman couples of all time: Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Bogart was smitten by the young actress with the older-than-her-years-sensuality making her big-time debut in the film. They would go on to make several more movies together in the following years.


Although Bogart was 25 years her senior, Bacall fell for him hard. The couple married not long after they met. During their “till death us do part” marriage the couple had two children—a son, Stephen and a daughter, Leslie. Interestingly, their daughter was named for a man, actor Leslie Howard.


The patrician  Bogart, who had prepped at Andover, likely saw a younger wife as nothing out of the ordinary. Many successful men waited till their 40s to marry in the world of his childhood. Sadly this was not the case for Bogie who had tried marriage a few times before and was still married to an actress when he and Bacall met. Certainly she was what we’d call today “arm candy,” but there is no doubt that the couple was sincerely in love and very sincerely married, staying together happily until Bogie died.

In her autobiography, Lauren Bacall By Myself, we learn details of their life together. It was during their marriage that she was credited with naming the famous “Rat Pack,” after a night of partying.

I’ve often wondered, during my many viewings of Bogart’s movie Sarbrina, itself a movie of an older man—younger woman romance, if while filming it Bogart ever felt nostalgic for those early days of their relationship. He played driven business man Linus Larrabee to perfection. But then, how could he fail? He might have been playing himself.

Although Bacall dated and later remarried to actor Jason Robards, she did not have another lasting relationship after Bogart.

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