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24
SCREENLAND
exican
lvorce
By
Charles W infield Fessier
N
OT only have you a blonde head but your brain is blonde," spoke Horace Randolph to the girl perched atop the table in his office. "Nature didn't bother to give you grey matter. She gave you a colorless fluid substance upon which there is no more chance of making an impression than there is of carving one's name on a wave. You give me a mental hangover every time I think of you !"
The blonde smiled sunnily and studied the effect of light on the black sheen of hosiery that accentuated the curves of her trim out-thrust leg.
"You should rent an hour each evening at some broadcasting station and call yourself Big Brother," she remarked. "You'd even be a good preacher if you didn't have such a nasty disposition. What do you care if I marry Kergan Montgomery? I'll have to sit across the breakfast table from him, not you, you know. And if he snores it won't keep you awake."
"Surely," said Horace angrily. "It's none of my business, I know. Only thing is that I hate like the devil to see Kergan Montgomery improve upon nature in making a sap of you. You don't love him. He doesn't love you "
"Oh, but he's so interesting," interrupted the girl. "He plays polo and flies an airplane and he's been married to so many really important women — I'll be the first movie actress he's ever married. Think of it! Mrs. Kergan Montgomery, formerly Iola Lane, star of the silver screen !"
Horace gestured impatiently.
"And then it'll be Iola Lane, seventh ex-wife of the much-married Kergan Montgomery, who is now reported
Horace glanced up. Iola was standing there dressed in gave off a shower of sunbeams under the light. "Please meet Kergan. I just want you to see that he isn't an ogre;
engaged to an East Indian princess in Paris," he predicted. "You know darned good and well that Montgomery doesn't think any more of marrying and divorcing women than I do of having the radiator of my car filled. He asked you to marry him merely because he's a rotten conversationalist and he couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment. He'll chuck you in six months and you know it. Remember, the ex-wife of a notorious man is like an ex-heavyweight champion. Newspaper men interview both of 'em to see what they think of their successors, then forget all about 'em."
Iola powdered her nose and shot a sidelong glance at the irate Mr. Randolph.
"But it'd be good publicity," she pointed out.
"Bah!" snorted Horace. "You'll get about as much beneficial publicity out of it as you would if you contracted a bigamous marriage with an assistant alcohol
"Not only have you a blonde head, but your brain is blonde!" moaned