A famed Hollywood comedian sat uneasily in the witness stand last week and considered the far-from-comic aspects of ingratitude. Charles Spencer Chaplin, 55, his platinum hair damp against his perspiring forehead, saw himself as an ill-used man. Three years ago, he had impulsively befriended an auburn-haired, freckle-nosed girl from Detroit named Joan Berry. There was a misty quality in the girl's shy brown eyes that made him think she might have picture possibilities. As it turned out, she didn't.
But she became the great Chaplin's protégée. Night after night, sometimes as often as five or six times a week during that...
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