Cheekbones that arched to heaven. A valentine face, fringed with demure auburn bangs. And a one-of-the-guys voice that enchanted both stuffed shirts and working stiffs.

These were the most obvious assets belonging to Claudette Colbert, the screen and stage legend born in Paris 92 years ago, who died Tuesday at her home in Barbados.

The actress whose throaty voice and bell-like laugh made music when talking pictures were young enjoyed a 20-year sojourn in Hollywood and three more decades in theater. Though she raised eyebrows as the scantily clad Poppaea in “The Sign of the Cross” (1932) and as “Cleopatra” (1934), Colbert established herself as one of Hollywood’s most deft comediennes in “It Happened One Night,” which won her a 1934 Oscar.

She was sought after by Paramount because of her melodic voice. When she played the saucy Poppaea in “The Sign of the Cross,” she sounded like a kitten that had just lapped up a saucer of milk. As the investigative reporter in “I Cover the Waterfront” (1933), she spoke with a rye-soaked voice. As the spoiled heiress of “It Happened One Night” (1934), she bubbled like champagne.

It wasn’t until pairing with Clark Gable in “It Happened One Night,” the surprise hit of 1934 and one of three pictures ever to sweep all the major Oscars, that Colbert revealed her flair as a farceuse.

After the war, when screen romance gave way to screen realism, Colbert shared the fate of many actresses of her generation. In 1946 - like Joan Crawford, Bette Davis, Irene Dunne and Barbara Stanwyck - Colbert was yesterday’s woman, not today’s girl.

But she embraced television, even hosting a documentary series called “Woman” during the 1959-60 season. As recently as 1986, she had a role in the miniseries “The Two Mrs. Grenvilles.”

Over the last decades of her career, Colbert frequently appeared on Broadway, and she looked at least three decades younger than her age.

A reporter who met Colbert in 1984, when she received a lifetime achievement award from the Film Society of Lincoln Center, marveled at how impossibly young the 81-year-old actress looked. How could this be? The reporter circled the legend, looking for clues.

“If you’re looking to see if I’ve had any work done, dear, no,” sang Colbert, intuiting the writer’s mission.

The actress obligingly lifted the russet locks on the nape of her neck and behind her ears, revealing an absence of surgery scars.

Even in her dotage, Colbert knew the true mark of a lady was knowing when to be a dame.