Full Dress

Occasionally the pajamas are green instead of pink, but there are always pajamas and the woman is always blonde. Discontented New York wives shrink from the hoary tale, but the state law which permits divorce only on grounds of adultery leaves them no alternative. Chief sufferers are referees in divorce proceedings, forced to hear over & over the same old story of raid, surprised husband, pajama-clad blonde. Last week in Manhattan a referee rebelled. His victim was a woman famed in the U. S. and Europe for her different parties, indifferent singing.

Cobina Wright was the only one of his five wives to part by divorce from Owen Johnson (Stover at Yale), Born Esther Cobb on an Oregon ranch 90 mi. from a railroad, she was taken abroad by an aunt; at 16 she made her operatic debut in Germany and married Novelist Johnson. After War and divorce she entered Manhattan society by way of marriage to a wealthy broker named William May Wright. In 1924 she began a series of concerts chiefly distinguished by her Poiret gowns. Meantime she was becoming famed for large, jolly parties to which socialites and celebrities went dressed as circus performers, animals, ballet dancers, Spaniards, infants. When Depression smashed her husband's brokerage firm, Mrs. Wright turned her talents and reputation to moneymaking. Now fortyish and fervent, she directs a Monday afternoon radio variety hour, smokes large cigars, boasts of her collection of autographs ranging from that of "Johnnie" Pershing ("the General, you know") to those of "Cantor and the Divine Sarah."

Three years ago Mrs. Wright gave her husband what money she had, sent him out to Mexico to make a new start in life. Shortly she heard that Mr. Wright's new life included an artist's model named Myrtle Gardner.' Last year she began divorce proceedings in New York. Before her case could be heard, Mr. Wright secured a divorce in New Mexico, married Miss Gardner. But Cobina Wright wanted a New York divorce and alimony.

Last week Mrs. Wright appeared in Supreme Court in Manhattan, accompanied by one George Hoy, one Gabrielle Grey and Manuel Del Moya, "attache" of the Dominican Consulate. Taking the stand before Referee John P. Cohalan, crusty oldtime Tammanyman, she asked pertly: "Your Honor, may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly not!" snapped Referee Cohalan, "I'm not a witness."

The witnesses proceeded to testify that last February they had raided an apartment on Manhattan's dreary West 16th Street, surprised Mr. Wright in the company of the then Miss Gardner. Miss Gardner was wearing pajamas. "Fancy ones," said Witness Del Moya. 'Definitely negligee," chimed in Witness Hoy.

Referee Cohalan frowned dangerously. "Women don't dress in crinoline or hoop skirts any longer." growled he. "They wear lounging pajamas. Just because a woman comes in and takes off her coat and puts on lingerie doesn't mean that she is about to commit adultery."

Mr. Wright, the witnesses admitted, had been fully dressed. The referee looked hurt. "This is the first divorce case I ever heard of," said he, "where people committed adultery in full dress."

"They had plenty of time to get dressed," interposed Mrs. Wright.

"You keep quiet!" ordered Referee Cohalan.

More evidence was offered. There had been trunks and luggage in the apartment. "Trunks and luggage don't commit adultery," cried the exasperated referee. Thereupon he made startling news for New Yorkers by refusing to grant a divorce on what laymen have come to consider standard evidence in such cases, by packing Mrs. Wright off to get sounder evidence from moving men, the raided apartment house's tenants, janitor and elevator boy.

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