Screenland (May-Oct 1942)

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He felt sunk as he left the terrace and walked into the lobby and then he turned as he heard her name spoken. He felt as if it had been torn right out of his heart. But the man who had spoken it didn't look as if he felt that way. He was big and handsome and self-satisfied, the kind of man at whom women take a second look and invariably regret it. There was a sense of his own unchallengeable superiority about him and Terry disliked him on the spot. "But can't you at least take a note to Miss Croyden?" the stranger was asking as if he were amused at the floorman's insistence that he couldn't go into the gambling rooms unless he was in evening clothes. "Pencil?" he demanded superciliously. The floorman shook his head as he fumbled in his pocket and Terry seized the opportunity. "Pencil." He smiled, offering his own to this superior being who accepted it as homage plainly due him, barely glancing at Terry as he wrote a note and called for a page. But Terry knew when to throttle his pride. "They're never around when you need them," he went on casually. "Can I help in any way?" "That's very kind." The other barely nodded. "If you happen to be going into the gambling room you might take this card to Miss Croyden; any of the floormen will point her out to you, Just tell her to have a little patience. I'll be right back. Thank you very much, old man." "Not at all." Terry made his own voice sound as clipped and bored as the other's had but he grinned as he stopped outside the gambling room and tore the card into little pieces and thrust them in his pocket. Consuelo was sitting in her usual place when he came into the room and as usual she was winning. She was keeping the bank and there was a stack of chips and money in front of her. "A bank of thirty-two hundred dollars !" the croupier announced. "Anyone say Banco?" But no one did. It was clear that they were afraid of her run of luck and Terry looked at them indignantly. Imagine anyone not wanting to play with Consuelo ! "Banco !" Terry called impulsively and then as the cards were dealt his face blanched. He had lost and all he had in his pocket was the fifty dollars the pawnbroker had given him for his cigarette case. But Consuelo only looked bored as she pushed the cards away and indicated she was through playing for the evening. "That'll be thirty-two hundred dollars, Mr. Trindale," the croupier suggested pleasantly. "Do you wish to pay Miss Croyden personally? You'll find blank checks in the bar if you need one." Terry nodded helplessly and followed her to the bar. "Will you have something?" he asked tonelessly. "Just ink." Consuelo turned to the waiter. "And a blank check." Then as he brought them she turned to Terry. "Just sign and the desk will cash it." Terry felt as if he were punch drunk. 'It's like a bell." He pressed his finger on his check. "You push here and it rings somewhere else. Only I'm pushing here." His eyes sought hers desperately. "And it doesn't ring. The batteries are dead." "Meaning?" Consuelo demanded dis CAST "HER CARDBOARD LOVER" A Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer picture. Screen play by Jacques Deval and John Collier, Anthony Veiller and William H. Wright. Based upon a play by Jacques Deval. Producer, J. Walter Ruben. Director, George Cukor. Consuelo Croyden. .. .Norma Shearer Terry Trindale Robert Taylor Tony Barling George Sanders Chappie Champagne . .Frank McHugh Eva' Elizabeth Patterson Judge Chill Wills dainfully and then without waiting for 1 answer, "I know. You can't pay me." "But I will pay you." Terry drew sor crumpled bills out of his pocket. "I c give you fifty now and — " Consuelo waved the money aside indi nantly. "I almost felt a little sorry for y< out there," she said. "I thought you we a fool. But now I see you're a welshs Why did you do such a thing?" "Because I walked in there," Terry sa miserably. "And there you were. Noboc would play with you. You looked at n and — and — well, I couldn't say 'I love yo in front of all those people so I sa 'Banco.' It was a love call." "This place must be a happy huntit ground for men like you." She looked him coldly. "Foolish women just awaitii for some attractive heel." "Attractive?" Terry brightened just little. "Heel!" she said flatly. "I guess this washes you up with n and it doesn't matter whether I love y or not." Terry shook his head as sb glanced away. "Then I might as well gh you this note. Only I tore it up," he cot fessed ruefully, bringing the little piea out of his pocket. "I didn't like other me sending notes to you." Consuelo felt as if she were suffocatin as she saw the bold disdainful bits of hanc* writing dancing before her eyes. Tonyl handwriting. "Want me to put it together again?! Terry asked. "I'm good at jig-saws." "No. I know what it is. Go away.1 Consuelo said savagely. Then as he starte to leave she called imperiously, "Com| back! Put it together. Did he say any! thing ?" "He said," Terry couldn't look at hey "he said, 'Have a little patience and he'i be right back.' " "Patience!" she whispered. "Patience. i\ Her cheeks flamed with the old agony, th old humiliation. She couldn't go on lik this. She couldn't. Suddenly she looked a Terry. "Come with me," she commandec It wasn't until she had ushered him int< her living room that Consuelo spoke again "How much is a secretary paid?" she asked and then as Terry looked at her bewil dered, "Never mind. You're going to b> my secretary for ten weeks at three hun dred dollars a week. Then the debt wil be paid." "I can't type." Terry shook his head. " don't take shorthand or keep books. F< be hopeless." "You don't have to." Consuelo wa plainly impatient. "When you spoke to m< 86 SCREENLAND