She is always a little tired. At the studio, they whisper that there are many times she cannot understand the English spoken. She seems to look forward to the hour when she can go home and rest. She is not strong and her periods of rest are to her a matter of physical necessity as much as a desire for mental seclusion. In her secret soul, she may be sure that the peppiness, the eternal energy and the brutal frankness of our flappers is not carrying them to any big ends after the north of Europe way of thinking.
Life is placid, but flows to more deliberate destinies in Sweden.
But there is no pose about Greta Garbo. She would never hold herself up as a critic. She simply desires to be sombre and reflective, quiet and reclusive even if nobody else on earth is living that way. They know that the mature power she showed in The Divine Woman and in Love and other pictures is the force that keeps great crowds of people miling about like cattle in front of box offices. This bellowing of cheery greetings keeps up until dressing rooms and sets absorb the professional throng.