The Picture Show Annual (1927)

98 Picture Show Annual “cMINNIE OF MOONLIGHT ALLEY” {Continued from page %.) The legacy had disappeared long ago, but Pamela had found plenty of work with her gift of turning old frocks into new. She was a perfect godsend to some of the less fortunate girls who never seemed able to get their chance and yet had to keep smart and up to date. Pamela sang quietly to herself as she worked. On the journey out she and Bertie had discovered that they were in love, and the little turquoise ring on the third finger of her left hand was the proof of their engagement. Mary had been delighted with the arrangement. “ Bertie is one of those dear old fellows one is grateful to have hanging around. I’ll just love to have him as a brother,” she had cried gleefully as she threw her arms round Pamela’s neck and congratulated her. And when Mary and Bertie kissed each other, Pamela did not mind ; indeed, she was pleased. She wanted them to be all friendly together. Mary and Bertie were out now. They were trying to get an engagement together as dancers in a special film. It had needed a deal of practice ; but Pamela knew the road to fame was not easy, and had to be worked for. She smiled to herself, and there was a very tender light in her eyes as she went on busily stitching. She and Bertie might not marry for years; but they were very happy, she was so certain of his love. She had a special pie in the oven for their supper. He and Mary always came in hungry, and no one could make beef steak and kidney with mushrooms quite like Pamela. “ Hallo, Miss May ! Aren’t you just tired of that everlasting needle ? ” Pamela glanced up to see Maisie Burke, Mary’s best friend since she came to Hollywood, standing at the little garden gate smiling at her. “ Mary and Bert are not back yet, but I expect them any minute. Will you come in, Maisie ? ” said Pamela. “ Don’t mind if I do. I’ve come to talk,” responded Maisie, and vaulted on to the windowsill, where she sat with her long, slim legs dangling. I suppose you’ve not an ice drink handy ? ” she said, as she fanned herself. Pamela rose and attended to her visitor’s wants. Maisie swung herself round into the room and then stood with her hands behind her looking around her. It’s a fair shame, ” she remarked, as she emptied the glass Pamela had given her. “ Why do you do it, Pam, sitting alone here the best part of your life losing all the fun ? ” It all depends what one calls fun,” said Pamela, laughing. “ I like being at home ; it’s my job.” “ Oh ! ” Maisie made a grimace. “ Do you mean to tell me you are never jealous ? ” she said bluntly. “ Why should I be ? ” Pamela laughed gently at the idea, and her clear eyes held no lurking question in their depths. Maisie Burke frowned and shook her shingled head. “ Mary was my friend, and I hate to turn on a pal ; but she’s behaved the limit this time, Pam. She gave me this note to give you, and I’m fair sick to bring you the news, but someone had to.” She brought out a rather creased, limp envelope and held it towards Pamela. She took it wonderingly. Even then she did not understand. ” Dear Old Thing,—I' ve no excuse—neither has Bertie—we are a pair of rotters, only we must make good, old girl. We are leaving for New York by the mid-day train. Mr. Jules has offered us a turn in a show he is running. ‘ Bertie and I are getting married as soon as we reach New York ; it will save expenses. And we have decided we’ve got to make a name off the films before we can be recognised on. “ You can manage without us, and will always be able to make a living. You’re the quiet, everyday sort, dear, but Bertie and I are not. We are artistes and must have change, so forgive us. We both send you our love. I’ve left the clothes you lent me at Barkley’s Studio. They will give them to you if you call. “ Your loving and affectionate sister, “ Mary.” For some moments Pamela stared at the letter in her hand, her grey eyes dull and an expression of utter bewilderment on her face. Then very slowly her head dropped forward and she covered her face with her hands. Maisie said nothing. Several times she opened her mouth to speak but changed her mind, and finally she went out, leaving a little broken figure huddled, sobbing, in the chair. * * « « « I T was some days before Pamela could bring herself to go to the studio for the dresses. It seemed 2is if the bottom of her world had suddenly dropped out, as if she had nothing more to live for. After a while, however, it occurred to her that the clothes might become lost if she did not call for them, and so one afternoon she went up to the studio. The great place was almost deserted. It was a princi- pals’ day—that is to say, one on which scenes featuring principal performers only were being taken—and as she climbed up the staircase to the wardrobe mistress’ office, she could hear the producer’s voice on the floor below raised in almost tearful exasperation over some scene or other. It was all very interesting, thrilling almost. The great arc lamps, the bustling, chattering mechanics and camera folk interspersed with languid stars, and one or two favoured outsiders let in to watch proceedings ; but Pamela was miserable. For the first time in her life she did not care about any- thing, wasn’t interested in anything, nothing mattered. She got the dresses from the wardrobe mistress. The woman put them in a big newspaper parcel for her. It was very bulky and Pamela had some difficulty in carrying it, but she managed at last to get it hitched up under her arm and set off down the stairs again. She was a strange, pathetic little figure. Her un- happiness had brought out the delicate wistfulness of her face, and her great grey eyes — -near tears — were wide and soft. Two men came running up the stairs as she went down. They did not see her at first, and so she stood aside to let them pass. (Continued on page 100.)