Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1924)

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Mary came of fighting stock, and, if she hesitated, it was only for a moment. Stooping low, she hurled her slender young body against the heavier body at the stair head ilmost foolishly, as he wiped his face with a shirt-sleeve sadly Itained with oil and acid. It was a lean face, an intent face, dready marked by lines of thought, a face, for all its youth, hat might have been called hard and would always seem sombre, except for a dreamy softness about the meditative grey eyes. "That may have been an accident," he said as he took up he binoculars. "And we can't crow until we're sure." He stepped back to his instrument. "What's in that car stopping by the side-entrance lo the Club House?" he asked. Don, whose glass had been poised on the gayer group tered about the Club portico, where he had notice. 1 Admiral VValsworth and his daughter Mary roll up in their highpowered grey roadster, studied the humbler car in the rear. "It's a delivery truck and the driver's carrying a can of icecream into the Club. I can see a second can still standing his truck." ■