"People see what they want to see," Mary repeats, melancholy. "It was just a sitcom, just fluff and entertainment, and so on. It was popular, so it can't be art, and if any of us insisted on being seen as artists we'd be called pretentious. Myself especially. I was almost twenty-four when the show ended, and I..."

She looks down, hands curling into fists as she remembers that time. She'd been so full of hope, freed from the studio and its control, and that hope had been relentlessly crushed.

"I overreached, honestly. I was part of a stage production of Macbeth, and I won the role of Lady Macbeth. The cast and crew were supportive... I wanted to be taken seriously as a dramatic actress... and the audience laughed instead. I was ridiculous in the role, according to critics. To everyone. All they ever saw was Baby Doll."