Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1936)

PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE FOR DECEMBER, 1936 107 The holiest joy of a woman's life would be for her, she thought, poisoned at the springs. She would see her own eyes in a little child's face, would feel its little wet mouth at her breast, and the motherhood in her would be numb under the frost in her heart. A frantic terror suddenly tugged at her, but she repressed it; for the sake of the life within. She must think. She must act. She must do something about it! She walked back to the little cottage where she had a room. She flung herself on her bed and lay there, her mind a whirlpool. Her landlady called in, later, to say that they were all leaving for a ride, but Sue scarcely heard. After an hour the quietude plucked at her raw nerves, so she got up, went into the tiny living room and sat down with a magazine. Her mind refused the chronicles of the printed page. She sat, finally, staring through the window at the night, not any blacker than the aching void in her own heart. Fate had given her a complex problem to solve. Fate, too, apparently, had solved that problem in its own blind, inscrutable way. For the door opened presently, and she looked up, startled; and there stood Paul Elsmere. COR a moment, he stared at her, his eyes 'thirsty with long denial; then he said, very softly: "Thank God! Thank God!" And she saw that his eyes were misted. Her heart suddenly ached sharply. He was on his knees beside her in a moment, his arms flung around her; and when he raised his face, her searching look blurred before the agony in his eyes. She was utterly limp. It was no time for speech, trivial or serious. She had no words and she was weary and drained of all emotional reactions; but a subdued and moving sweetness came into her eyes. Again, the sheer miracle of being together possessed her. Something within her echoed sharply to the memories of a thousand dead delights, hurdling the barrier of her will, when Paul touched her. A dry sob ripped at her throat. He kissed her hungrily, then he raised his head. What a jaunty head it was! "Sue!" he said. That was all for "Ihe moment; then: "I've looked for you everywhere. When Bill told me about meeting you, I went crazy. I got every detective in Hollywood and Los Angeles to help find you. Thank God — they did! You've got to forgive me, dear. I can't live without you and make it mean much. You've got to come back to me — " His worldly eyes were misty. It shocked her, to see a man cry. And she had seen what she wanted to see. She had decided her course before he spoke. Her hands framed his face tenderly, as if she had longed to do just that for a long time. He was too thin, she thought. When she spoke, it was a bare whisper: "Paul!" she said. "You do care, don't you?" He looked at her without answering, but she didn't need the confirmation of speech. He said: "I do, Sue. I want you to believe that. It's true." He meant that. Yes, she knew he meant it. Then, he kissed her; and it became a kiss so full of beauty and tenderness that she wanted to sob. " You're corning home," he told her. He helped her pack, and the chauffeur took her bag. Then without a word, Paul picked her up and carried her to the car. "Home," said Paul to the chauffeur. "And step on it!" Sue sat curled silently in his lap. It was a few minutes later that, unconsciously, she said: "I'm hungry, Paul. I'm ravenous!" "Good Lord!" he murmured in consternation. She suddenly smiled. "Darling!" she said. "It isn't starvation! It's — well — I'm hungry most of the time, now. I wondered about it — until today." His face was puzzled. So she told him. She saw the incredulity, the shock, the emotion, uncontrolled, that swept his lean features; then he sat in silence, his eyes awed and boyishly sweet. "Sue!" he whispered presently. "You're — sure?" "Of course, I'm sure!" she said. "Good Lord!" said Paul Elsmere softly. "Good Lord!" It flashed through his mind that Bill Lederer knew; that Bill must have, somehow, guessed. That, undoubtedly, was why Bill Lederer had been so frantic and emphatic that Sue must be found — at once. He had noted Bill's vehemence. He had resented Bill's intrusion. He had never liked Bill. He smiled faintly, now. Bill was really a good egg! Keen and understanding and human. Regular! "Bennings!" he called sharply, into the chauffeur's tube. "Slow down! Drive carefully, please! Never mind the speed — we can use a little safety instead. Take no chances of an accident. And — stop at the first decent restaurant you see!" The End [ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 73 It is a legend among the boys that he enjoys it; that after they have staggered, wilted and invariably defeated, from the room he sits back in his chair and laughs and laughs. " A FTER you've got the story finished," I ' ^said to him, "I suppose you sit in with all the other departments. At least most directors do. They follow the set designers around and change backgrounds, and fuss with the wardrobe people about costumes — " "I don't do any of that. My premise is that it takes more than one man to make a movie — each has his own job, and he's sup posed to be an expert in it. Naturally he doesn't thank anybody who comes around trying to" tell him how to work. I'm a director and that's enough of a task in itself. I'm not going to waste my time or anyone else's butting into something I don't know anything about." He crushed out his cigarette, lighted another. "The trouble with most movie people," he told me through the smoke, "is that they take the whole thing too seriously. It's no great matter of life and death about a picture. The public isn't going to stop buying theater tickets if the length of an extra's dress isn't just right or a set has a little too much shadow YowrKodak Picture ENLARGED FREE 8x10 Inch ENLARGEMENT of any SNAPSHOT t^ . 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