(Excerpt from a longer letter from an old friend of Jane’s who lived in Casa Grande, Arizona and through the years also became a good friend of mine). . . . Jane spent the night with us two days ago. She just showed up at the door early one morning. I don’t know what is going on but I do know she is a wreck. She has a great act and, if I didn’t know her as well as I do, I might be fooled but I can read between the lines. She smiles far too fast like she flicked a switch and the smile comes on. Then, just as…