Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1924-Jan 1925)

OTION PICTURn MAGAZINE p "There may be a clue there,"' retorted Margot, running the fingers of one hand thru her gorgeous red hair. "I'd thought of it. Only, why would he want to hypnotize the girl ? And if he did, what could be his purpose except an immoral one, which wouldn't have required his taking her out of this house? No one here ever bothers as to what his neighbors are doing. One could literally get away Margot Anstruther with murder, and not a soul would be the wiser." "You're taking awful chances living in such a place," broke in Eugene, disregarding her quick frown. "I've a private telephone, remember," she answered drily. "Two women, who shared the room between Stella Ball's time and mine, had it put in. I could always raise an alarm by calling the police." "If you could reach the 'phone quickly enough," murmured the cameraman. Margot shrugged. "Well, to get back to Stella and old Murchison " "Why get back to them?" pleaded Stoner, in comic supplication. "Much better turn on the jazz and let me shake another round of Bronxes." "Oh, all right!" laughed Margot. "You've evidently not got the detective sort of mind." "Have you?" "I've quite a slant in that direction. Ever since I've been old enough to read, mystery and detective stories have been my fad. Bulwer's The House and the Brain, and Sherlock Holmes, and Gaboriau's tales. I've analyzed the methods of most of the great detectives." "Gaboriau is my favorite," commented Eugene. "He would be. You're of French descent, and you probably read him in the original. I vote for Conan Doyle's immortal Sherlock." "You and Gene are some pair of highbrows to find in the motion picture industry," said Stoner. "I'd hardly call it highbrow to go in for detective fiction," quizzed Margot. "But I attended medical college and specialized in chemistry, before I suddenly decided to be an actress. How's that?" "Hot stuff for your press-agent when I'm directing you as a star some day," clamored Stoner. He stared at the girl, nevertheless, with a new respect and an obvious sense of fear that his loud-voiced studio patter had not been the most impressive line to follow with her. Margot set her victrola going and danced in turn with her men guests, including a blond actor whose complete lack of an intelligent vocabulary had made his remarks in the preceding discussion not worth quoting. May Cheshire and Lulu Leinster, for want of partners, slipped into each other's arms and jazzed expertly. A tireless rage for the dance pulsed in every one of these children of the Twentieth Century, banished the feeling of inequality that Margot's superior mind had for a moment caused. Caught up by the national rhythm, they were marching deliriously to hard, glittering fox-trots played by Ted Lewis's band, by Whiteman's band. What if the music were only at second hand? Syncopation and the phonograph record had come into being at the same time, and swept away with a single victorious gesture the sentiment of the waltz and the musician's fingers flying over were Margot observed a white keyboard. Here were new measures that gained rather than lost by being utterly mechanical. Margot and her friends preferred them. But with the approach of midnight it became well to shut down on the racket, even in a somewhat free-and-easy old house in the Roaring Forties of Manhattan. A supper of sandwiches and cake made its appearance from the cupboard which served as a kitchenette. There was more orangeade flavored with the forbidden stuff, and then the party began to break up. Stoner had offered to see May Cheshire home. She lived in the wild reaches of the Van Cortlandt Park section. They the first to leave. with a faint amusement that Eugene intended to be the last. The other girls had jauntily declared that they needed no escort, and he had not argued the point. Lingering until only Lulu and a certain June Moore were left, he said good-bye along with them, but turned back on the stairs, ran lightly to Margot's landing and tapped on her door. She had expected this. "Silly boy!" she greeted him, holding the door ajar. "Margot — dear — I cant go without telling you I'm absolutely crazy about you," he stammered. "My, my, Gene, what a surprise ! Of course, this is the first time I've heard it." "Please dont kid. I'm in love. I've got to keep on begging you to take me seriously. If I dont succeed in putting that much across to you, I'm bound to lose out. I — I'm not altogether a sap. I'm not blind." "Just what do you mean by that?" "I mean Stoner," he muttered, jealousy blazing in his eyes. "He's a loud-mouthed motion picture man of the old school. Not your kind at all. I know that. But he's your director, and you take his being in love with you seriously. He's got a start. He — he might be able to convince you." "Oh, he might, might he?" she retorted sarcastically. "Honestly, Gene, if I didn't like you well enough to make allowances, I'd be insulted. A man who never lets me forget he gave me my job, the way Frederick Stoner does, is the sort of man I hate." At the last word, she threw her head back imperiously and stamped her small foot. "Forgive me, Margot." "It's all right. Only, I wish you'd advance just one practical argument why I should be sentimental about anybody — you, for instance." "Are you joking?" "Not at all." "We're both young," he cried eagerly. "We could go ahead together in. the pictures. I dont intend to be a cameraman all my life, and " "There you are," she interrupted. "You've got almost the same idea that Stoner has. You think you could help me." V "As your husband, why not?" "Well, I dont need a husband. I can look after myself." "In every way?" "Yes." "Hard, self-sufficient Margot !" 49 PAG i