ARGENTINA: Little Eva

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Shimmer & Impulse. As a rainbow, shimmering with a new change of clothes at every appearance, coruscating with glittering jewels, shapely, brown-eyed Eva was unbeatable. Spaniards, high & low, took to her with open arms. Up & down the nation for two weeks and four days (TIME, June 23) they feted her, showered her with gifts and, as a grand climax, pinned upon her well-rounded bosom the Grand Cross of Isabella la Católica. Eva loved it. The promise of Franco's bauble had spurred her trip. The other reasons for the extravaganza were not so clear. But at least Argentina was advertised, and Eva meanwhile had a wonderful time as she flashed her dazzling smile at ambassadors, cooed at crowds, fondled babies, and impulsively pressed 100-peseta notes into the hands of tearful, nursing mothers.

Even without a pot of Argentine gold and boatloads of Argentine wheat at its end, Argentina's rainbow would have been welcome in Spain.

Italy was a different story. There were Communists there, particularly in the north, ready to shatter Little Eva's poise with shouted obscenities and angry demonstrations. There were tactless, unreconstructed Fascists, too willing to hail Argentina's best-forgotten wartime associations.

But in Rome there were also unpolitical G.I.s on hand to meet Eva at the airport and give a low wolf-whistle as she emerged from her private plane in slick, flower-printed silk pulled skin-tight over her hips and bosom. There was an audience with the Pope, luncheon with the Foreign Minister, a Grand Hotel reception glittering with papal titles, and a dazzling performance of A'ïda under the stars in the ancient Baths of Caracalla. Eva, in black flowered silk with a white fox cape, her hair, ear lobes and shapely neck glittering with diamonds, arrived on the arm of Premier de Gasperi just in time to delay the second act a full half-hour. Some of the paying guests were furious, but the Latin American diplomats, who had the best seats, cheered wildly.

The Likes of Eva. "I like all music, concerts and operas—especially Chopin," said Eva later to a reporter, admitting that her Italian reception, despite the Communists, had been "enchanting." "I don't understand politics," she continued, her alabaster hands fluttering expressively, but "I am profoundly religious." The Pope had been "marvelous." "What saintliness!" said Eva Perón, her brown eyes rolling heavenward.

The reporter asked if she enjoyed reading as much as music. "Oh yes," said Eva. And did she have any favorites? "Why do people ask me questions like that? I like everything I read." But surely she must have some favorites. "Well," said Eva, her brow furrowed in agonized thought, "Plutarch." "He's an ancient writer," she added hastily.

The reporter nodded and asked how she was enjoying her trip. "Oh," said Eva, "it's been magnificent. The most moving sight to me has been seeing hundreds of people in Spain and here in Italy waiting for hours in the boiling sun just to be able to throw a flower at me."