Picturegoer (Jul-Dec 1937)

PICTUREGOER Weekly July 17, 1937 The Story of the Film — continued he confessed. "He will stick his nose into our business. Can't a man and a girl go on holiday together just for pure fun ? To hear him, you wouldn't think so. What I want to suggest is that we should ignore him for the future." "We could," Kay agreed. She had the feeling that Gene wanted to kiss her, which he eventually succeeded in doing, despite her efforts to keep the conversation on a platonic level. The sensation was far from disagreeable, yet she was glad when George appeared, although his remarks about the lipstick on Gene's mouth were slightly embarrassing. Remembering her conversation with George at the night club, Kay flared. "Just because Gene kissed me you've decided what you said in Paris was true. You know everything is going to happen just as you predicted, and you feel very wise and superior about it, George," she accused. "Well, good for you, and goodnight." Kay was able to keep up the effort of ignoring George through the subsequent sleigh ride to their destination, the St. Georg Hotel. But the glorious prospect of snow-covered mountains, the hotel skating rink, the cheery parties going and coming in sweaters and ski-ing outfits, the brilliant sun, and air like champagne worked their spell. In the corridor leading to their three single rooms, she took the two men to task. "Listen, I don't think it a smart idea to spoil our chance of having a good time. Some of us may have a pretty low opinion of the others and the others may resent it, but we're here for a vacation and — well, let's have it. What do you say ?" If you think I've anything but the highest regard for you, Kay," Gene said, "there's a silly misunderstanding." "And I don't see why the three of us shouldn't enjoy ourselves," George chimed in. With good spirits entirely in tune with the surroundings, Kay buttoned herself into a well-cut waterproof suit preparatory for ski-joring. That one and all eventually landed in a snowbank, became relatively unimportant when no damage to life or limb was proved. Bob-sleighing being the next item on the programme, the three toiled up to the summit of the bob-run. After an exciting morning walking home with George by the pine trees and the snow-bound stream, Kay tackled him about his superior attitude. "You misunderstand me," he said gravely. "That look you complain of when I see you with Gene is plain, old-fashioned jealousy. I love you. Are you surprised?" "Absolutely. It's the last thing in the world I ever expected to hear from you." "Don't let it worry you, because I've loved other women, and nothing's ever happened; and don't feel sorry for me because I love good pictures and books and they don't love me. I'm quite resigned. Perhaps if I wasn't so placid I might make you have me. One thing : Gene won't marry you, and I would." "What makes you so sure?" she demanded. "I just know he won't." It was 30 quite clear to Kay then that she preferred Gene, for she was immediately furious and cut short the conversation. That night, walking along the balcony towards her room. Gene insisted again that he loved her. Before she knew it he had kissed her for the second time, but between the kiss in the train and this lay a world of difference. " I could swear you meant that," she said, a little breathlessly, "but we're in Switzerland . . . besides, you talk too fast to mean anything." I lied at first, I admit," Gene said eagerly. " I did it because you were so darned nice to look at, and I didn't want to lose you. Now I know you, I know I love you." At the door of her room she would have gone straight in, but he seized her in his arms. George's cough came opportunely. It rallied Kay's resistance. "Perfect night for skating, isn't it?" George at the door of his room observed calmly. Humiliating for Gene, Kay reflected, but, after all, he deserved it. Determined to add her own comment to Gene's behaviour next morning, Kay welcomed the sight seen through her window of George perfectly at home on the ice-rink below, and moreover pleased to have her join him. She knew Gene at skating was only a tyro, while George's performance about matched Gene's on a dance floor. Round and round the rink Kay went, improving with every minute of George's expert steering. But she had not come on the ice only to skate, although the elegance of her trim figure and dainty ankles supported by the latest thing in boots was a poem in itself. George's attitude to her, to last night's episode, must be plumbed. " I suppose you're wondering why I'm skating with you," she ventured. "Not at all. You don't like me, but you like skating," he countered. "Besides I'm casting responsibilities aside, including my chaperonage, and trying to enjoy Switzerland." " You mean . . ." "Well, first I've decided you're in love with Gene, second, you're old enough to live your own life, and third that it's insane for a man to mind anyone else's business. Now, what about making the most of the morning ? Have you had breakfast ? " Sitting at one of the rink-side tables, over orange juice and coffee, Kay found definitely pleasant. Even Gene who joined them, grumbling because Kay had not breakfasted with him, failed to cast a shadow over the party. George was so much nicer in his non-chaperone mood, and Kay felt it was good for Gene to feel his skating inferiority. "I suppose you've forgotten we agreed to ski together to-day, Kay? " Gene said at last, having encountered his third tumble. "No, I haven't. I'm ready now." He left it till they were on the top of a slope that gave every prospect of a fine run down, to say : " Kay, after all we said last night, why did you go skating with George ? " What do you want me to do — be with no one else but you ? " "Yes." "You know what that means?" She hadn't mean to say as much. but was irritated at his shillyshallying. "Listen," he said. "I'd like to ask you, Kay, but . . ." " I see. One minute you're telling me how much you love me; next minute you — what do you want me to do — wait around till you've made up your mind? Well, I'm sorry ! " She was off; the cold air hurtling against her cheeks. No chance to turn round to see if Gene was coming. The slope with its snow banks, crevices, and abrupt descents, claimed all her attention. She was tired, but at least upright, by the time she reached level ground. Plodding along, she saw the track that lead from the mountain station and a sight even more joyful — the station sleigh approaching with only one passenger — a woman. "Are you going to the hotel?" Kay inquired of the driver. "Get in. Ma'am." "Thanks. I'll hook on behind." By the time the driver had whipped up his horse, the woman passenger had turned and said politely : "How d'you do? Someone's back there waving. Is he a friend of yours?" But now, the sight of Gene, who by the look of it, had had a rough passage down, no longer thrilled Kay. No," she said firmly. The woman passenger who was not so very young, but quite good looking, and very much mistress of herself, seemed disposed to be friendly. Arrived at the hotel, she did not go in, but took Kay off for a drink at the skating rink bar. They found George, who evidently knew Kay's companion and the three chatted over hot toddy, until George for no reason apparently, suddenly choked. Next minute Gene, carrying a broken ski, had arrived at the bar. " Kay, dear, why did you leave me ? " he began and stopped as Kay's erstwhile companion came forward. " Isn't it time you recognised your own wife. Gene? " she smiled. " Don't stand there looking silly. Let's have another round of drinks. No doubt you've been at your usual game of heart breaking ... no don't go, Miss Denham, please. I'm not in the least embarrassed. This sort of thing happens every day." Gene married ! In spite of George's hints, somehow Kay had never thought of that. Partly owing to her own want of intuition, Kay was more angry than upset. " It doesn't happen to me, Mrs. Anders," she flared. " I'm sorry I'm not modern. I've been fooled and I wonder no one told me. Perhaps I should have realised it. Anyway, right now, I'm leaving both these gentlemen, for a man who's slow witted and doesn't know how to lie. I've had enough of this." Fortunately, she got no farther than Paris before she found the dullard in question. "Berk" she cried as he whirled her round to face at him at the hotel receptionist's desk. "Why did you come over." "Well, I cabled and you didn't answer. Then I found out you'd gone on a trip with someone. . . ." He couldn't finish. To Kay's horror Gene and George were coming down the lobby . . . "Kay . . . Kay" Gene was announcing. . . . "I've been trying to tell you, I'm free. My wife's getting a divorce She's going to marry an Indian — one of the kind with all the money and no blankets." "Would you mind my talking to you alone?" Berk pleaded, with a murderous glance at his compatriots. She hurriedly introduced George and Gene, and declaring she'd talk to all three separately when she was ready, if they wanted it, sought her room. What the three men said to each other over the drinks with which no doubt they passed time at the bar, Kay was never to know, rt was enough for her to decide what to say to Gene, whom she summoned first. He came in with his usual affectionate, cocksure attitude. "You're irresponsible as a two months' old puppy," she told him. "You must love me every bit as much as you loved your wife and you'll be even more worked up over the woman who follows me. Frankly that's not what I want, so 'Goodbye' and thank you for the nice things. There were some, you know." She watched him go, knowing that in her heart of hearts, she would always regret that his charm was not matched by his constancy. When George put in an appearance, she hardly expected him to propose again, but he did. "It's a shame," she admitted, while no sign of what he felt crossed his very pleasant and likeable face. "You might be the ideal husband if you'd only throw away that awful superiority. Your hair's too well combed. Your tie too straight. You're completely master of every situation. Nothing in your eyes to tell a woman whether she could be happy forever, or only a week. . . . Thanks so much for everything and 'Good-bye,' " "Shall I send Berk up?" he asked quietly. " Please." " I'm entering no plea and keeping calm, but I'll be seeing you," he returned evenly. What possessed Kay to send Berk about his business, Kay could not have told. Obviously she ought to marry him. Right up to the moment of talking to George, she had meant to marry him if he renewed the offer But when he made it, adding that he didn't care what had happened in Switzerland, she let him have the rough edge of her tongue. "Smug little windbag." she accused. "Talking about trusting me and checking up on me as soon as I don't reply to a cable. Trusting me and telling me you don't mind what happened in Switzerland. Get out of here. . . . Go on." She retired to the sofa, after he had gone. Refusing three marriage offers in turn was exhausting. Question too, had the triple refusal left her happy ? Kay knew that she wasn't happy, and vaguely suspected why, when the door opened . She took up a box to throw at the head of an offending male, and stopped, seeing that the intruder wasn't an offending male. It was George. " Kay," he stammered. " I'm not going to take things calmly. I'm going to beg you to marry me . . . please sit down and listen. I'm scared and nervous and liable to talk my head off." "Well, if it isn't a human being." she said, while her heart sang. Forgetting Gene who would love to pretend he was sincere to the end of the chapter, forgetting Berk who, at that moment was professing that his life was ruined, and that he would never run after a woman once he was married, Kay drew closer her husband-to-be. " You beautiful woman I love you," he said shakily.