按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ime next week。 'F I ain't there I'll be on the lot some place。 Don't forget； now。〃
Merton Gill； some distance from the Buckeye set； waited to note what direction the Montague girl would take。 She broke away presently； glanced brazenly in his direction； and tripped lightly out the nearest exit。 He went swiftly to one at the far end of the building； and was again in the exciting street。 But the afternoon was drawing in and the street had lost much of its vivacity。 It would surely be too late for any glimpse of his heroine。 And his mind was already cluttered with impressions from his day's adventure。 He went out through the office； meaning to thank the casting director for the great favour she had shown him； but she was gone。 He hoped the headache had not driven her home。 If she were to suffer again he hoped it would be some morning。 He would have the Eezo wafers in one pocket and a menthol pencil in the other。 And she would again extend to him the freedom of that wonderful city。
In his room that night he tried to smooth out the jumble in his dazed mind。 Those people seemed to say so many things they considered funny but that were not really funny to any one else。 And moving…picture plays were always waiting for something； with the bored actors lounging about in idle apathy。 Still in bis ears sounded the drone of the sawmill and the deep purr of the lights when they were put on。 That was a funny thing。 When they wanted the lights on they said 〃Kick it；〃 and when they wanted the lights off they said 〃Save it！〃 And why did a boy come out after every scene and hold up a placard with numbers on it before the camera？ That placard had never shown in any picture he had seen。 And that queer Montague girl； always turning up when you thought you had got rid of her。 Still； she had thrown that knife pretty well。 You had to give her credit for that。 But she couldn't be much of an actress； even if she had spoken of acting with Miss Baxter； of climbing down cables with her and falling off cliffs。 Probably she was boasting； because he had never seen any one but Miss Baxter do these things in her pictures。 Probably she had some very minor part。 Anyway； it was certain she couldn't be much of an actress because she had almost promised to act in those terrible Buckeye comedies。 And of course no one with any real ambition or capacity could consider such a thing descending to rough horse…play for the amusement of the coarser element among screen patrons。
But there was one impression from the day's whirl that remained clear and radiant： He had looked at the veritable face of his heroine。 He began his letter to Tessie Kearns。 〃At last I have seen Miss Baxter face to face。 There was no doubt about its being her。 You would have known her at once。 And how beautiful she is！ She was looking up and seemed inspired； probably thinking about her part。 She reminded me of that beautiful picture of St。 Cecelia playing on the piano。 。 。 。〃
CHAPTER VI
UNDER THE GLASS TOPS
He approached the office of the Holden studios the following morning with a new air of assurance。 Formerly the mere approach had been an adventure； the look through the gate； the quick glimpse of the privileged ones who entered； the mingling； later； with the hopeful and the near…hopeless ones who waited。 But now his feeling was that he had； somehow； become a part of that higher life beyond the gate。 He might linger outside at odd moments； but rightfully he belonged inside。 His novitiate had passed。 He was one of those who threw knives or battled at the sawmill with the persecuter of golden… haired innocence； or lured beautiful women from their homes。 He might be taken； he thought； for an actor resting between pictures。
At the gate he suffered a momentary regret at an error of tactics committed the evening before。 Instead of leaving the lot by the office he should have left by the gate。 He should have strolled to this exit in a leisurely manner and stopped； just inside the barrier； for a chat with the watchman； a chat； beginning with the gift of a cigar； which should have impressed his appearance upon that person。 He should have remarked casually that he had had a hard day on Stage Number Four； and must now be off to a good night's rest because of the equally hard day to…morrow。 Thus he could now have approached the gate with confidence and passed freely in； with a few more pleasant words to the watchman who would have no difficulty in recalling him。
But it was vain to wish this。 For all the watchman knew this young man had never been beyond the walls of the forbidden city； nor would he know any reason why the besieger should not forever be kept outside。 He would fix that next time。
He approached the window of the casting office with mingled emotions。 He did not hope to find his friend again stricken with headache； but if it chanced that she did suffer he hoped to be the first to learn of it。 Was he not fortified with the potent Eezo wafers； and a new menthol pencil； even with an additional remedy of tablets that the druggist had strongly recommended？ It was； therefore； not with any actual； crude disappointment that he learned of his friend's perfect well…being。 She smiled pleasantly at him； the telephone receiver at one ear。 〃Nothing to…day； dear；〃 she said and put down the instrument。
Yes； the headache was gone； vanquished by his remedies。 She was fine； thank you。 No； the headaches didn't come often。 It might be weeks before she had another attack。 No； of course she couldn't be certain of this。 And indeed she would be sure to let him know at the very first sign of their recurrence。
He looked over his patient with real anxiety； a solicitude from the bottom of which he was somehow unable to expel the last trace of a lingering hope that would have dismayed the little womannot hope； exactly； but something almost like it which he would only translate to himself as an earnest desire that he might be at hand when the dread indisposition did attack her。 Just now there could be no doubt that she was free from pain。
He thanked her profusely for her courtesy of the day before。 He had seen wonderful things。 He had learned a lot。 And he wanted to ask her something； assuring himself that he was alone in the waiting room。 It was this： did she happen to knowwas Miss Beulah Baxter married？
The little woman sighed in a tired manner。 〃Baxter married？ Let me see。〃 She tapped her teeth with the end of a pencil； frowning into her vast knowledge of the people beyond the gate。 〃Now； let me think。〃 But this appeared to be without result。 〃Oh； I really don't know； I forget。 I suppose so。 Why not？ She often is。〃
He would have asked more questions； but the telephone rang and she listened a long time； contributing a 〃yes； yes；〃 of understanding at brief intervals。 This talk ended； she briskly demanded a number and began to talk in her turn。 Merton Gill saw that for the time he had passed from her life。 She was calling an agency。 She wanted people for a diplomatic reception in Washington。 She must have a Bulgarian general； a Serbian diplomat； two French colonels； and a Belgian captain； all in uniform and all good types。 She didn't want just anybody； but types that would stand out。 H