Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

40 hands of this loan that had haunted her out of the valley of the shadow. She wanted to put Arthur Crewe from her Hfe forever. JACK LONDON tells of a man who, escaping starvation in the frozen North, after his rescue used to steal crusts from the dinner table and hide them away in fear of starvation again. And so, in a different way, it was with Madge Hillyer. Her suffering in so critical a time had left its mark deep upon her. The thought of a return to poverty made her shudder in terror. She could not bear to spend or enjoy the money that had come to them as a result of her toil and sacrifice. Dan's happy recklessnesses — occasional flowers, a beautiful ring, toys for httle Dan — filled her with dread instead of pleasure. "Dan, we must save," she would repeat. "The horror of what we have gone through haunts me. It must not return. It would kill me to go through it again!" "I mean to save within reason," Dan would reply, irritated by her insistence. "But we don't have to be silly about it." And so the question of dollars — always dollars — even now came to loom between them and threaten to destroy their happiness. It would seem that dinner at the St. Croesus, the opera, supper at a gay cabaret — these should have aroused Madge's late love of gayety and luxury. Dan insisted on taking her out to these places one evening, when he felt that her obsession for saving was driving ,him to distraction. Her spirits Photoplay Magazine 1 Dollars and the Woman NARRATED by permission from the Vitagraph production, adapted from the book by the same name by Albert Payson Terhune, and directed by George TerwLlliger with the following cast: Madge Hillyer Alice Joyce Dan Hillyer Robert Gordon Arthur Crewe Craufurd Kent Mrs. Sherman .Jessie Stevens rose when she donned her evening gown, which had lain idly in her closet for so long. The color came back to her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. Dan's old time impetuosity returned and he caught himself kissing her hand over the table. But before the evening was over they were jangang again. "You didn't hesitate to spend money on yourself when you needed it at the hospital," Dan remarked. "Not that I regret it — I'm glad you did." "It was all free — furnished by the city," answered Madge heatedly. "I didn't spend a cent." "Then who did spend it?" asked Dan. "You can't tell me the city, gave you a private room and two nurses for nothing." As they left the cafe, angrily, they passed close to a table where Arthur Crewe was seated. He had been watching them. He started to rise, but Madge only nodded at him coldly and passed on. The unnatural relation which had arisen between Madge and Dan Hillyer over money led them both to do despicable things, which neither would have done under ordinary circumstances. Driven by a sort of inexplicable doubting and jealousy, Dan went to the hospital where Madge had been ill and demanded to know about her bill. It had been paid, but when Dan asked by whom, "Ask your wife," was the superintendent's calm answer. He hurried home. Madge was out and being alone, he sat down to work out plans for a laboratory in which to work out further experiments. A question of the price of a piece of apparatus bought by Madge came up in his mind, and he turned for her check book. As he glanced through the stubs, his eyes suddenly became riveted on a certain one. His hand began to tremble, and he let the book drop from his fingers. Weakly he went to the desk and ran over Madge's canceled checks till he came to the one she had sent to Arthur Crewe. His manner was cold and accusing when Madge came in from her afternoon's marketing. (Continued on page ij8) ^ "Why did you give my wife this? " Dan held out the check. Ai 1