Picture-Play Magazine (Sep 1928 - Feb 1929)

92 A Continued from page 66 Malcolm Allen, entering at the door of the restaurant, saw the gesture with astonishment. He knew that Sonnenberg was far from fond of him, and since the casting of Lopez in "Red Velvet," the writer and Miss Smith had not spoken together privately. But Mary Smith was gazing at him, a lovely, imploring look in her eyes which said, "Do come !" and, of course, he obliged, with a joyous smile of surprise. Malcolm was seated directly facing Lady Gates at her not-far-distant table. He bowed to his aunt as usual, but his face stiffened as, instead of nodding in return, she gave him a venomous look and then imperiously beckoned. "Oh, Malcolm— Mr. Allen," Madeleine pleaded, while Sonnenberg scowled, "Lady Gates has been talking to me about you in — in a horrible way. You will have to go over and stop her tongue. This can't — it mustn't — go on. Be as kind as you can — and firm — and show her that she'll have to behave herself, for her own sake, or leave Hollywood." "What's the matter with her now ?" Malcolm asked of nobody in particular at the table, and it was Pauline Fordham who answered. "She was accusing you, in a loud voice that every one heard, about heaven knows what, and saying she'd leave all her money away from you to Lopez ! That means it's quite true, of course, that she's going to marry him !" "She shall do nothing of the kind !" said Malcolm, between his teeth. "She'd be better off dead !" As he spoke, he pushed back his chair, conscious of, but in his anger indifferent to, the fact that every eye in the restaurant was on him. He walked over to Lady Gates' table and stood with his hand on the back of the chair where Madeleine had sat. "If you intend to make a fool of yourself and me, you had better not do it here, but let me take you to your hotel," he said in a tone which people strained their ears to hear. "I'll not let you take me anywhere, now or ever !" came the shrill answer which no one missed. "What you had better do, is to sit down here and listen to what I've got to say. If you don't, I'll have you arrested." "I think I could more easily have you shut up in an asylum," Malcolm was goaded to reply. But she began to wave a sheet of paper in the air, a sheet of paper which looked familiar to him, and it seemed to Malcolm that the quickest way to finish was to take the virago at her word and sit down. It was a delightful scene for everybody, even the least malicious ; every Girl Comes to Hollywood body, that is, with two exceptions — Pierre, the proprietor of Montparnasse, who feared something violent, and Madeleine Standish, who was quivering with shame and indignation for Malcolm, as a few minutes before she had quivered for herself. If only he would control his temper ! She felt, she knew, that he had much strength of character. If he could keep his head now, he would be able to master this foolish, ridiculous woman. He might be able to get her away before Lopez appeared, and even to talk her out of the error of her ways. At first Lady Gates gesticulated hysterically, her breast heaving. She threw down the anonymous letter and ordered her nephew to read it, thumping on the table with her ringless hands. Then it was evident that, somehow, Malcolm contrived to dominate her. He was looking straight into her eyes and speaking emphatically, though slowly, in a very low tone. Madeleine wondered what he was saying! But, whatever it was, it seemed to have a powerful effect upon Lady Gates. She began suddenly to cry, and to feel with trembling fingers in her gold-mesh bag, apparently for a handkerchief. She turned deadly pale under her rouge and looked ghastly. Leaning back, she said or gasped something to Malcolm in an imploring rather than an angry tone. He opened her bag, found the handkerchief and passed it to her. Then he slipped the sheet of blue-gray paper into an inside pocket of his dinner jacket, and, to Madeleine's surprise, produced from somewhere a silver flask. Malcolm Allen, who drank so little, and in all the weeks she'd known him had never been seen to bring a flask into the restaurant ! However, apparently he had one with him to-night — rather providentially, it seemed ! There was also a tiny vial which had come, whence Madeleine didn't know, though she thought that she had missed very few happenings at that table. It was one of those miniature bottles which homeopathic doctors use. Malcolm hastily extricated something small, almost invisible, from it, dropped the little object into a tumbler half full of water, and then poured in some of his silver flask's contents, enough to turn the water in the glass to a golden yellow. He pushed this to his aunt, and she drank it eagerly. "Go now. I want to be alone," Lady Gates said in a strained yet audible voice, and Malcolm rose. Madeleine was not thinking of the tiny bottle, though she had been curious about it for an instant, wonder ing whence Malcolm had produced it, but she had a vague impression of seeing him slip it into his pocket. Evidently he thought that he had mastered his aunt's hysteria and that she might safely be left, for he did as she requested. He got up and, without another word or glance at her. turned his back to the table. He returned to the Sonnenberg party, but remained standing. "I must beg you all to excuse me," he said. "I want to go after that fellow and have it out with him before he gets here." It wasn't necessary to speak a name. They all knew who "that fellow" was ; and certainly in this young man's present mood, it would be better that the two should meet outside Montparnasse rather than in. "Don't beat up Lopez till the picture is finished !" warned Sonnenberg. "That's right, my boy," added Landis. "We can't spare Lopez yet. We've shot thousands of feet of him. Don't you do any shooting till ours is over." "Do— do be careful, Malcolm!" Madeleine pleaded gently, while Pauline's immense eyes flashed with excitement as if in her heart she hoped that something — almost anything— might happen. "Please don't any of you worry," Malcolm reassured them. "I don't intend to forget myself. Good night." With one glance at Madeleine that said she knew not what, Allen went out, not noticing Pierre as he passed through the door. He had still to pick up his hat and coat, but nothing was heard outside, and it could be taken for granted that Lopez had not appeared before the man who sought him had got into the street. Madeleine, arid perhaps others, now had time to glance at Lady Gates again. She was leaning limply against the high back of her Spanish chair, her eyes half closed, her lips slightly apart. One hand still clasped the tumbler from which she had drained every drop of the golden fluid. "What could he have said to her ?" Madeleine wondered. Whatever it was, it had been very effective. "The old dame looks sick," said Sonnenberg. "She deserves to be sick," said Pauline. "Hell's bells !" Landis made use in a whisper of a favorite expression of his. "Now for ructions — maybe!" He was looking not at the principal entrance of the restaurant, but at a door in the distance, partly covered by a tall screen. It was there that Continued on page 94