"Oh, it's Juliet Prowse...That's Frank Sinatra's girl! What's she doing with Elvis? ...Has Elvis gone off his rocker?" The newsy tidbits flew faster than a gossip columnist's pencil.
Juliet, in a crisp green cocktail dress, slid her arm through Elvis' while he tried to cut a pathway into the club. As he felt her touch, he grasped hold of her arm as though it was the last thing he was goint to feel, ever. He looked into her blue eyes as if for reassurance and she looed up at him, a small smile gently curving her lips.
This is part of an article in Photoplay magazine, November 1960
