Hollywood (Jan - Oct 1934)

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(^ske oL^ong ^"■S,!fSi"sSsiaf3Ss,*rfes got i„ „„p /,<„, ,„ me md ruiming oul o; £«• .^u ve THE CAST JOHN BARRYMORE c„, BMam ALAN MOWBRAY S<r Anthon« Geldina HELEN CHANDLER Ltnd REGINALD SHARLAND rZ) ,'" "" DONALD COOK ^.^ Bil! Stroiia AN RKO-RADIO PRODUCTION Pi«iom«d from the screen play • by Edward R. Sammis The glamorous story ol a fascinating roue caught at last in a relentless web ol love ! Lindsey Lane dropped the blade of her fencing foil and leaned back, laughing and quite out of breath, against ■* the wall of the gymnasium. Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes sparkling as she pushed the mass of blonde curly ringlets back from her forehead. That last bout had been a hard go. Still there was nothing like fencing to provide the poise and grace so necessary to a successful dancer— especially a dancer who was the toast of London. "Enough for today! You are getting better every time, Mees Lane," said the little Italian fencing master, beaming proudly on his pupil. Suddenly she caught sight of Bill Strong lounging in the doorway, waiting for her. • "Hi!" he called, lifting his hand in careless greeting, a pleased grin on his lean, dark face. It was so like Bill -so American. No stuffy Englishman would do that. Evi^,,1\ ? *? " hadn * affected him at a11 in the six months ?J^!„v ,„cTe over from *e States to take his interneship at Victoria Hospital. of ha^JL? "J? 5Cross thf floor t0 30in him. an ^stasy beinaPCH t ,vdW*VP in her' U seemed that fate was one Hvn» = K^1* Her lir* had not been an easy houses whit a* K lna session of provincal boarding as she co.nnV 6 hld *"£ t0 eke out a Hving for as long dance 1 1 WM^' ^ tWO months aS° ber specialty End \ud ienn« TKUm had scored a hit ^h smart West marry him iL. ^ /esteld^ Bill had asked her to "HuUo darw ™P-; !05 seemed ^ about full, for Bm to kta *'Coml LmdSfey PUtting "P her Parted UPS and dress » Wa't for me whUe 1 have a shower HtUe'cSl^ L^V narr°W corridor to a row °f emerged wnta nThW dlsaPPea>;«l for a moment, then flash of wTito U» vUblp'S Shea*i"g her blonde curls, a "Just be a m n"t» " ^ beneath her striped bathrobe, room across^ Z "Sail. Sa'd' a"d slipped into the shower hind fte door of tilfSZ'* bare arm rea<=hed out from berobe and towel Bifl ™T? r°?m' handinS Bil1 her bathsinging beS'^'.rb^curtafns"63^ ^ ^^ "* casuaTv.^The fe^ HaPPy Hour?" Bill asked "Don't ^'ndsev's rePlv was emphatic ™ldlv. "After alT! tl° '1!. Z°ur fa*her?" Bill inquired our marriage " ' tnouSht he might want to know about HOLLYWOOD , . „ . , ... , „„„„ -Carl " she said, "you must slop seeing either Lindsey or me. I »«.'! have a young Lady Hermione cleverly hid her anger. y»"< "" •"•"! ' ., ,„,„•„,_,_ „utl" ivhippersnapper of a girl culling me oun "I never want to see him!" Lindsey answered bitterly. Lindsey's father, the debonair and dashing Carl Bellairs, was proprietor and chief drawing card of the Happy wour. He had deserted Lindsey's mother when Lindsey was only a baby, and she had never seen him fromtha .day on She had grown to hate this father of hers, although she had closely followed in the papers his career as an adventurer, soldier of fortune, and man-about-town with an avid, perverse curiosity. About-town gossips were whispering that the beautiful and wealthy Lady Hermione was the latest to fall victim to his charms. "I saw him yesterday," Bill said. "He s not a bad sort, really. Why don't you give the man a chance . "Did he give my mother a chance?" Lindsey flared. L>w he give me a chance? He ran away from us both and as far as I'm concerned he can stay away! Her mood changed abruptly. . rf tn "Now turn your back," she called. "Venus is about to arise from the foam." FEBRUARY, 1934 Bill felt the towel and bathrobe snatched from his arms. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of her slim white body hastily enveloped in the striped flannel folds as she dashed for her dressing room. It was a new Lindsey who came out a few minutes later, breathlessly beautiful in her smart tailored suit. Bill caught her in his arms and crushed her to him. "Oh darling, I love you so!" she murmured, touching his cheek with her fingers, her mouth seeking his. "Let's not go to the Happy Hour," she said. I d prefer a coffee stall. We'd be alone there." "As you wish dear," Bill agreed. • While Bill and Lindsey were lunching in the dark intimacy of the little booth, Carl Bellairs, darkly handsome and distinguished in morning coat and striped trousers was eyeing the swinging doors anxiously, as he bowed the' noonday customers into the Happy Hour, twiddling his long fingers behind his back in nervousness. 31