Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1916)

28 Photoplay Magazine lived in vain. And he always noticed ; he wasn't one of those creatures who never knew whether you were wearing poplin or percale. "Sh !" she warned, like a conspirator, "you mustn't say such things. People will hear." Temple straightened, bristling. Here was a challenge cast by a prying world. He tingled, he meditated. Then he cast his proud gage of battle. "Well, let 'em hear. I can think of several things I'd be more ashamed of than being in love with you." Why is it that ancient civilizations, so prolific in unnecessary statuary neglected to portray the lover, that combination of raging lion and veal? . . . TTHEY were deep in their intimate af* fairs, sublimely indifferent to tottering empires and a racked world. "Is it certain you start for the Mexican border with your company in three days, Paul?" "Yes, unless Stannard has brought some other word from the East. He got into Los Angeles last night, you know. Three days ! Lord !" Then, dismally, "I suppose you'll get on all right after I'm gone." "Oh, Paul, I don't know. A dozen times a day I'm ready to throw over the whole plan. Everything's so strange and upside down here ! It's all like a dream. Summer in winter ! Rose hedges in February ! . . . It isn't natural. Oh, I wish we were married ! I could learn this business just as well in your company as in Briscoe's." He shrugged and made a dismissing gesture with his hand. "It's too late to discuss that now. Briscoe wanted you all to himself long enough to make a moving picture actress out of you, and we both agreed he should have you. I'm a selfish dog, of course — " ("You're not, and don't you dare call yourself such names!") — "and didn't like it at first, but after a little I got Tom's point of view. Married and together, I suppose we would be mooning around useless for the better part of a year, but separated, and with marriage as a reward for your progress, you'll accomplish something if it's humanly possible — or at least so I have been led to suppose." She sniffed. "And besides," he concluded, "it's only fair to you. You have ability and ought to have a chance to bring it out ; and the only way is to put you under a heartless taskmaster like Tom Briscoe and let you suffer. Imagine me trying to teach you anything." He laughed fatuously. "Well, you could !" she defended. "I've known you to be very stern at times, Paul." He snorted. "But when you have begun to be heard from, June, then we'll be married, and aside from our being happy, we'll have a future in our profession worth waiting for as far as business is concerned." June sighed. "I suppose so . . . . And you won't come back until Tom sends for you?" she faltered, for that was the unwritten agreement. "No." He tried to maintain the hope note, but failed dismally. "You've got to be either a success or a failure, and I don't care which ! All I want is you." "And all I want is you !" She lifted shy eyes to him, and he saw the fair skin of her throat darken as the warm color rushed up. ""THE peace that breathed o'er Eden was ■*■ broken by the advent of a jaunty person who wore a large cap on the back of his head and was continually engaged in trying to smoke a calabash pipe. "Hello, lens louse !" he saluted Paul genially, "hast a thermal unit?" "Terrence MacDonnell. as I live ! Press agent and liar extraordinary to the Graphics. Go away from here. I refuse to be quoted." Paul gave him the desired match. "Naturally. You're not fit to print. But never mind, I'll expurgate you. When do you start for Mexico?" "In three days. But first I've got to pow-wow with the big chief." "Yes, so I hear. Expect to be away long?" "Yes. nine weeks on this picture, and then back to New York." The forgotten match burned MacDonnell's fingers and he dropped it. smothering a curse. "Good riddance !" he remarked genially, continuing the conversation. "What are you going to do back there? Go on with the directing you besran in the north?"