Motion Picture Magazine (Feb-Jul 1919)

I (pl^?!£^ "American m Beauties" | owe much of their attractiveness to H their beautiful Eyes adorned with = long, luxuriant, silky Eyelashes j§ and perfectly formed Eyebrows — jj "those Fringed Curtains which Veil g the Eyes," and give to them that K rare charm of expression, which 1| all women prize so highly, and = which is so greatly admired by g women and men alike. If Nature jj has denied you these Beauty Aids, g| do not despair. You may now have H them if you will apply just a little M Remember the Full Name — It's Imitated ^^^^^^~ |i§ persistently for a short time. Its purpose jj is to nourish and stimulate the Eyelashes = and' Eyebrows in a natural manner thereby m promoting their growth and adding beauty to the face. Lash-Brow-Ine is a pure, delicately scented cream, guaranteed to be absolutely harmless. It has been tested and approved by the best chemists and beauty specialists of America. 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Then I heard what that knowledge was — that you had become his mistress. I could not believe it. Knowing you, I could not believe that. Tell me, darling, you would have died rather than . . ." "I would not be alive, Michail Koloyar," I muttered next his ear, "if that which you have heard — were true." This is all for the present. I salute you. Marie Pavlovna. Across the Boundary. Little Dove: It is all over, Little Sister, for the present, for your poor, harried Marie Pavlovna and for Michail Koloyar. It was so nearly all over forever, darkly all over, with no longer any glory of the sun, any promise of the leafing in the spring. The day after Michail Koloyar found me I was arrested and taken to Kamenoff's headquarters. "You are to remain here," he told me, "until you register." "That will be forever," I replied. "The pleasure will be mine, Marie Pavlovna," he replied and clicked his heels. I stayed a fortnight. In that time I had no glimpse of Michail Koloyar. Every day Kamenoff came to my room with the blank for me to sign. Every day I refused. Then came a morning when he showed me fifty women or so herded in the courtyard below. "They are like yourself," he said, smiling and showing his teeth, "rebels from the decree." "They are martyrs," I said. "If martyrs die for the stubbornness of a mule," he answered me, "then they are martyrs. "The rebels are to be herded here daily," he went on, watching me narrowly; "I am to raise my arm, give the signal, they will be shot. On the other hand . . . you sign the decree. The chances are you go to your homes, to your husbands, to your families — unmolested." "Or?" I suggested. "Or — to the arms of a lover," he smiled. "Which is better, Marie Pavlovna?" "Death," I said promptly, "oblivion, sleep . . . peace . . ." Kamenoff turned darkly red. He strode over to the window and flung up his arms. There was the shattering sound of shots, then a voice crying, "Nadia Kamenoff was in the crowd. Theo Kamenoff, you have killed your little sister. Pig, you have slaughtered your own !" Michail Koloyar's voice called loudest of .all. The mob tasted the unlawful blood and ran riot. There were more shots. Kamenoff swayed where he stood, and as I fled from the room I saw him fall with the dark blood rushing from his twisted mouth. Michail Koloyar and I are across the border. Tonight we go to a little wayside chapel and a priest will make us one. I am very tired. Love is a calming, a content ... a balm like your balm of Gilead . . . Some day, Little White Dove, we shall come to your country, where peace and plenty smile like little new moons on the milk-full breast of an abundant sky. Your weary Marie Pavlovna. 10 Afi£ * r t