You don’t get talented all of a sudden, and you don’t get sexy all of a sudden. But all of a sudden Deborah Kerr’s name was blinking down on Broadway from two movie marquees (Julius Caesar and From Here to Eternity) and one legitimate theater (Tea and Sympathy). And all of a sudden the lady from England had a figure that could sell bathing suits and a romance or three that could sell newspapers. That is, the columnists figured anybody as sexy as Deborah was in From Here to Eternity had to have somebody swooning in addition to husband Tony Bartley. So they linked her with a millionaire who is nameless (probably because he’s never existed), an agent who fits the same description, and (pardon us for being doubtful) Frank Sinatra.
During all of which Deborah was resting in the cozy whitestone she’d rented from John Foster Dulles. Resting because every night and twice on Wednesdays and Saturdays she knocked herself out in Tea and Sympathy to the extent that critics were putting her in the Helen Hayes – Ethel Barrymore class. But, after all, the stage is Deborah’s first love, and she’s always been anxious to return to it. When she did last year it was a big gamble, because most Broadway shows flop and because for the first time Deborah had become solid boxoffice in Hollywood. It isn’t easy to turn your back on stardom the minute you become a star, but she did and the gamble paid off. Come 1955 she’ll make another American movie. But meanwhile there’s a trip to England this summer with her two kids, to fulfill a picture commitment, and then a couple of months on the road with Tea and Sympathy, and then finally maybe a chance to sit down with one of those big heavy books in John Foster’s library.