Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1940)

against Laurel because she had a way of cutting the ground out from under them with one nasty swoop and making you feel a fool. And if she wasn't right, the way she said things made them sound logical and true and fair. It was twelve o'clock and Caroline couldn't stand it any more. Ann wasn't trying to talk. She was just trying to live until David got there. Randy had given up long since and quietly immersed himself in drink, having looked up in the encyclopedia during one of the thick silences after dinner, how pineapples grew. He said, "Well, think of that, now. The second largest industry in Hawaii is growing and canning pineapple. It is conducted by nine companies with a capital totaling $17,825,000 and assets exceeding $35,750,000. The pack in 1930. . . ." "Oh, shut up,-' Caroline said. "Who cares?" "I care," Randy said stiffly. "I am interested in things that are going on around me." "Well, pineapple is growing all around you," Caroline said. "Why don't you go out and listen to it and leave us in peace?" Ann smiled at Randy wanly. "Caroline is mad at you because David didn't come home. Don't pay any attention." Then, at twelve o'clock, Caroline said, "I'm going home. I don't want to be here when David comes because I'm quite sure I'll give way to murder." Randy paused ceremoniously in the doorway. "It was a lovely dinner," he said. "Thank you." "You're welcome," Ann said. Randy couldn't seem to get himself out of the door. He said uncomfortably, "Don't worry. They're probably just hashing things over and don't realize how late it is." "Probably," Ann said. Caroline said from the darkness, "Come on, Pollyanna, before I really give you something to be cheerful about." Ann sat on the lanai when they had gone. It was a beautiful tropical night with a beautiful tropical moon, but it was pretty useless to her. She didn't feel like crying. She hadn't felt like crying since Caroline had told her about Laurel's arrival. All her energy had been concentrated in trying to breathe. Before she'd always taken breathing for granted. Now she was acutely conscious of it as an effort. During this breath he might be kissing Laurel and admitting a mistake. During this one he might be on his way home. Or ... he might be on his way swiftly in another direction, leaving her as Laurel had left him, without a word. She was amazed when she realized how many places in the world a person could go, and you'd never know, unless he left you some word where to look for him. If he didn't come. . . . But he came at one-thirty. He looked very tired, even in the half light of the lanai. His hair was windtossed as though he'd been driving like mad (would Laurel kill him one way or another? On a curve, perhaps, trying to push the memory of her out of his head with the impact of wind?) and as he lit a fresh cigarette she could see his hand shaking. He said gently, "I'm desperately sorry, Ann." "That's all right," Ann said. "Caro and Randy were here for dinner, I suppose?" "Yes." "They told you Laurel is here?" "Yes." "I meant to come earlier," David said then. "I really meant to, but it got so involved." Ann said, "David ... is it true?" "Is what true, darling?" "Do you lie awake nights wishing you were dead as she said you would in the letter?" There was a long silence. David turned his back and crushed out the cigarette with a quick, nervous gesture. He just stood there. Ann wanted to scream, or to run but she didn't do either. She could hear herself breathing and his breathing crossing hers in sound. She forced her voice, just to hear something in the stillness. "Do you, David?" "Yes," David said. "Yes, I do. I have, ever since the night she left me. I'm sorry, Ann." -op. nbo'9 one bea" A shattering awakening for a bride on her honeymoon — and especially for Ann! With her carefree, childlike charm, how can she hope to compete with the allure (and the determination) of David's former wife? Don't miss the unexpected developments in May Photoplay.' Hollywood's Greatest Lessons in Love (Continued from page 23) like that, and that's to ask: To ask happy wives, and women many-timesdivorced — husbands of ten years' standing, and ex -husbands of a month — press agents, and maids on the lots. To get the answer, you must become a universal pest. I became such a pest, and I finally came to a single conclusion, which is herewith presented to those who may be smug about their own success in marriage: Hollywood marriages have no outside props to keep them up. If they survive, it is because the man and wife concerned are truly happier together than apart! Analyze the marriages which have failed in the moving-picture colony, and you'll notice that they have failed for causes which rarely crop up in the average American home. Analyze the ones which have succeeded, and you'll see that they have survived difficulties which are abnormally severe. Here are the abnormal circumstances which make marriage a difficult accomplishment in Hollywood — here, in distilled form, is the comment made by dozens of confidantes close to the stars: 1. Many of these wives work, and work at very exacting jobs. They must often sacrifice their husbands' needs, as well as their own inclinations, to the necessities of their career. 2. Hollywood homes have too much money. 3. There is no Mrs. Grundy in Hollywood, to look askance at couples eager to break up. 4. Marriage is a normal way of life, developed for the average man and woman; but Hollywood is inhabited by people of very different dispositions and tastes from the average. 5. Many of the stars are too pampered and spoiled for marriage. rOINT No. 1 was mentioned so often that I sought out a famous psychiatrist and asked him to tell me whether he thought a wife's moving-picture career causes an unusual strain on a marriage. "Certainly," he said. 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