Bill didn’t have to marry for “a home”. He’s had a home, dozens in fact. He didn’t have to marry for children. He’s got his son. But for a dear, delightful young audience, for a gay, laughing escape from loneliness, for a magnificent chance to make a sweet kid happy, and be very much at peace with the world— well, if these are not fine things to marry for, then there’s no meaning to the word romance.
That’s why I think Diana Lewis is the most “suitable” wife for the Bill Powell of today. He doesn’t have to be grim and practical about marriage. He can marry for the simple joy of it. That’s why I think he and Diana are very lucky to have discovered one another. And I think it would be a grand and glorious thing if they live happily forever after, and I very much hope they do.
Photoplay, February 1940— Bill and Diana would spend the next 44 years together.
Pretty Diana Lewis Powell and husband, Bill, make one of their rare night club appearances in Hollywood’s swank Ciro’s. No wonder Diana’s happy — she’s married to Hollywood’s best-loved actor, who clearly cannot keep his hands to himself.