Screenland (May-Oct 1938)

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Send Gc in stamps TODAY for Illustrated Booklet, "How to Remove Superfluous Hair Forever." O. J. Mahler Co., Dept. 29K, Providence, R. I. Jean Taylor sat at her dressing table, enmeshed in thought. She was to get her big chance, co-starring opposite Dick Ramsey— at a price! And she smiled, tightly. She was to help rescue his screen personality by a fake engagement, because she had been publicly accepted as the embodiment of girlish virginity; and that was to lend sanctity to Dick's supposed fascination for her. There was a young bitter hurt in the scarlet curve of her lips. Ever since she had first seen Dick Ramsey, two years ago, laughing, roistering, fighting his way across a screen, she had known that he alone, out of all the world of men, could fill her heart and her soul to the exclusion of all else. And when he had kissed her, in the test shot, something had awakened in her and become reality. And now, this ironic fake engagement ! To further both their careers, even her mother, the tired, the proud, the sacrificing staunch friend, must also be hoodwinked. Her thoughts sped over the past, back to her high school days. She had graduated, at seventeen, and had been voted the prettiest girl and the most likely to succeed. She had been urged to take an office position, but she had known that she was going on the stage since she had been twelve ; so her mother had pinched and saved and given Jean dancing and singing and dramatic lessons ; and at eighteen, there had been that chance with a thirdstring stock company, in San Francisco. She didn't like to think about that. It aroused too many painful memories. Finally, they had come to Hollywood. It wasn't a talent scout, but Bill Walters who had noticed her, one day, in the casting office, waiting patiently to present her extra slip from Central Casting. Her orchid-like beauty, her slim, perfect body, had registered on the sharp-eyed Bill. "What's your name?" he demanded, with out the formality of an introduction. "We'll have to do something about you. Had any experience? Come up to my office, I want to talk to you." After that, she had been put on the payroll for a year, at a salary that allowed her to live, and she had attended the Mammoth Dramatic School. She looked at pictures, heard lectures, and she took a course in imitating classic statues. She studied the Winged Victory of Samothrace and Cellini's Perseus. This, she was told, was so that she could learn the arts of standing and walking. She must learn to carry herself with the upper breastbone and lower thorax well forward. The instructor said that if the windpipe and collarbone were held as in the Winged Victory, the rest of her physique must follow. But no one in the studio seemed to know that she was alive — except Bill Walters. Then, a sharp-eyed executive, at Atlantic Films, put in a bid to borrow her — at a flat profit — for a year, and Mammoth had gladly let her go. At Atlantic Films, she had clicked and had made a hit in two pictures. She was "discovered." And now, she was twenty-two, and Mammoth had "discovered" her — again. It occurred to her that she was being discovered as often as North America. Co-starring opposite Dick Ramsey ! It seemed incredible. She was still negligible, and Dick Ramsey had the Flollywood rhythm, was in step with the fastest, smartest crowd, was the leader of a glittering set. He was the screen idol of every woman in America. And she was going to be his leading lady ! Her mind was filled with a wide, swelling music. . . . Someone knocked at the door. She remembered that she had dismissed her maid. She called: "Come in!" Dick Ramsey stepped into the bungalow, dressed for the street. She felt again that blind stir in her blood as his blue scrutiny enveloped her. Some quality of life and energy seemed to pour from him. "Well," he said, an aloof friendliness tinging his magnetic smile, "we're off ! The show's on ! Walters is releasing the news of the engagement in the afternoon newspapers. I suppose the correct thing for us to do is to put on a good act." "Why not?" she shrugged. "This will be proclaimed to the world as romance, and we're to be the touching young sweethearts." He grinned, and she understood why women of all ages fell for him, but his blue, ironic eyes held such a guarded stillness against her. "Anything," she agreed, coolly, "to further your success and my career." An_ unreasoning anger caught at her. He didn't have to be like that! He could try to make it pleasant. His eyes went blank, but he smiled, engagingly. "I see you aren't keen for elaborate intrigue. However, we agreed to put it over, so we might as well be cheerful about it. One crack from a columnist and we're both sunk. It'll be awfully thin ice." "Should be fun to skate on," she said, recklessly. His smile warmed. "I begin to have more respect for us. We may, after all, combine business with pleasure." "Publicly," she agreed. "Just enough to serve as a counter-irritant." "You mean," said Dick, his face tight and locked suddenly, 'Ruby Lloyd? We can leave her out of this. She's merely a friend Hollywood seems to remember the wrong things." Jean shrugged. "It's none of my business, really. No one ever explains in Hollywood, Mr. Ramsey." "It will save a lot of wear and tear if you'll call me Dick, and I'll call you Jean." "Naturally," she agreed. "Of course, in public, it'll have to be 'darling.' " Hearing the word on his lips, she smiled, tremulously. "Handy word ! Used mostly when you forget a name. Part of the act." "Part of the act," he nodded. "Glassman's giving us an engagement party, later, at his home. Trust Mammoth to do things with a bang ! There's a defect in this dandy little scheme, however." "What?" she asked. "Well, how would Mammoth explain our engagement if it got out that we both have contracts forbidding us to marry? I guess they didn't think of that. Oh, well — be a good little trouper and come to lunch. On with the show, eh?" "Right ! On with the show ! If you'll give me a few minutes to dress — " "I'll be back in thirty minutes," he agreed. "And thanks for letting down the drawbridge." He smiled, nodded and left. The next day, the news broke. Dick Ramsey, the film capital's most eligible bachelor, forsaking all others, was engaged to that platinum cherub, Jean Taylor ! As the weeks passed, the publicity build-up was enormous. Work was begun on the new costarring picture, and love scene "stills" from it flooded the newspapers and the screen magazines. Dick Ramsey, now a romantic lover, had accomplished an abrupt right-about face. He wasn't a Don Juan any more. Love had accomplished a miracle. Jean was seen with Dick constantly, in every Hollywood bright spot. They were devoted to each other, in public. A striking couple, was the verdict ; one to make the gods jealous. Their new picture was coming along with contagion pervading the set. Jean lived in a make-believe world that had a hardly discernible dividing line from reality. Only when her mother's eyes filled with tears of happiness did she turn her suddenly stricken face away; for her mother, too, had fallen in love with her "fiance." One night, they sat in the living room of her bungalow, alone. Jean's mother had retired. Tonight, they had come from an exhibition evening at the Trocadero. Suddenly, she was startled to see Dick's face crumple with a queer expression. He blurted: "Jean, does it all have to be a fake?" For an immeasureable instant something piercing knifed through her; something beat in her breast like a captive bird. "No," she whispered, with oddly stiff lips. In an almost angry voice he exclaimed : "My God, Jean — I love you! I — I — think I must have loved you from the beginning !" Then he kissed her, and they spoke each other's names, and kissed again, as if kissing were a narcotic. He could find none but the old, old words to tell her: "Darling, I love you !" In a moment, all the world changed for them. "I'm going to buy you a new ring," he said, exultantly. "A ring really fit for you ! How little your hand is, darling!" "God bless Bill Walters," she mumured, her eyes blurred. "And the Old Man ! Let's put a fast one over," he begged eagerly, "and get married right away !" "Darling ! We can't ! We both have con' tracts that forbid marriage during the time — " "Then," he argued, swiftly, "we'd both be taking the same chance ! The studio wished this engagement on us, but they had their eyes on the box office. We have every right to get married ! After all, we don't have to tell anybody. We'll go to Yuma for the week-end — and be married," he whispered. "Darling — I want to — but we don't dare. I—" "We do dare ! Our private life's our own. Tell your mother you're visiting somewhere, over the week-end." 96 SCREENLAND