Don’t put your daughter on the stage, Mrs Worthington.

When Noel Coward wrote that song, the profession of acting had acquired a certain cachet of glamour. Actresses, however, were still not respectable, and the stage-door Johnnies could still hope for the ultimate reward if they wined and dined their favourites.

Society had become much more integrated by then, but the middle classes were offended by theatrical morals and the bohemian lifestyle. This attitude did not much affect the male of the species, of course, although the well-born young man about town would encounter strong opposition if he attempted to take to the stage. An actor, however, might be accepted into exclusive circles, where his female counterpart would be firmly kept out.

Even when I trod the boards in the late sixties and seventies, there was a faint whiff of disapproval and suspicion. I remember my grandmother, on hearing I was…