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Silver Screen for August 1935
61
its power drew her blindly back into Dickie's arms as Steven entered. Startled, Linda did not move from Dickie's embrace.
"Excuse me," said Steven. "I came for my walking stick. Dickie may not have told you, Linda, but that was my exit line."
As though stung into action she turned to him tragically, and then, realizing what had happened she shuddered with violent contempt.
"Steven, I hate you!" Head high she walked past him and out of the library.
And so Dickie and Linda were married and went to California. Back in his own setting Dickie became a different boy. He forgot that Linda might have things that she would want to do. The honeymoon developed into a nightmare. Linda watched Dickie do setting up exercises morning, noon, and night. Aroused from sleep at the crack of dawn, she offered him a smile and her outstretched arms and was told to come for a swim. She was dragged into all the sports she had never indulged in, and for which she had no taste. With every muscle aching, she had to smile and pretend to be happy to keep Dickie in good spirits. He seemed to think he had done her a favor by marrying her and that his obligation ended there.
Linda Returns
Six months passed. It was the anniversary of the day Linda had first declared her love for him, but to Steven it was just another day.
Unknown to him Dickie and Linda were in New York. That evening Linda appeared in his library, a bunch of roses in her arms. She was wearing a polo coat over an evening gown. Since she had walked out of this same library she had matured and Steven noticed the tragic eyes and the trembling scarlet lips.
"Steven, no matter what I've done to you I've paid for it," she said, arranging the flowers in a vase on her old desk. "And you're the only one who can help me. You were so mean about everything before, I hated you. Maybe I could have loved Dickie: I tried . . . and then came the honeymoon."
"Was it that bad?"
"Oh, Steven," she was walking about restlessly, avoiding his eyes, touching well remembered books and pieces of furniture as though wishing to reassure herself that this was real. "Why didn't you tell me what it means to be young . . . why didn't anybody tell me? We went to Santa Barbara. Out of bed by seven . . . three hasty kisses and a shower— a plunge in ice— horseback riding —tennis, what do I know about tennis?— golf —dancing and more swimming. And did you ever see rich men's sons in their bathing suits waiting for the depression to pass? They all look like Dickie! They talk like Dickie! They're as dull as Dickie! They are Dickie! Steven, I want New Vork and the theatre, and glasses of beer pounding on the table because somebody has something crazy and beautiful to say to somebody else. I want laughter and bad ventilation and mad dialogue . . . and you, Steven."
Then Dickie arrived, with two of his pals, in search of Linda. Already he had tired of her and since their arrival in New York had had her watched, believing that eventually she would get in touch with Steven. Steven put Linda in an adjoining room and picked up a book from which he looked up in well feigned surprise and welcome as Dickie entered. He invited Dickie to take a seat and have a cigarette but the enraged husband, looking about and asking for Linda, instructed his friends to search the place.
"Gentlemen," Steven attempted to stop them. "Before you make another move I
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