Perth Amboy evening news., 1922-05-23

HLOuIs JOSEPH NANcS&S
con M irn tsrAuus ~
CONTINUED From Our Last Issuc)
epn ~ Leuis JosrhV Vance

CONTINUED From Our Last Issuc)
XIX.
Weeks slipped stealthily away, a
spring ensued like an eastern sum-
mer, while delays on delays accumC-
l1ted and still the day when shoot
ing" should begin fingered remotely
down tomorrow's dim horizon.
Lonsaine had leasei stldio space
in the linn plant. which Summer
Iad recommended as the most mod
arm and completely equipped On the
coast. For this the company was
paying a weekly rental of fifteen
hundred dollars. An extensive ex-
eeutive and technical st lff, lacking
only a director. was kickias hee's
OF enforced idleness on fu.l Day. y
story had been selected. an old 3ove
Ivy a moderately popular aulhor to
which linn had in 1914 purchased
all motion picture rights outright
for five hundred dollars and which
he was now willing to part with for
ten thousand as a special courtesy
because he had taken such a mad
fancy to Lontaine.
A scenario writer, warranted by
linn the best in the business" had
received five thousand for casting
the story into continuity form. the
labor of one whole week, and retired
rejoicing to his hundred and fifty a
week Job in the linn scenario de-
partment.
A reading of his bastard brain
child had persuaded Lucinda that
continuity writing must be the mys-
terry its adopts alleged: in fact. she
couldn't understand the greater part
of it. and what she did understand
somewhat preyed upon her mind.
But Lontaine seemed satisfied.
Summerlad solaced her misgivings
with the assurance that Potter Mon
ahan simply couldn't write a poor
continuity, and both agreed that
Barry Nolan would know what to do
to make it right when he got down
to work on it.
Incidentally. he did: Nolan read it
half-through, thoughtfully SHE'D the
manuscript out of a window and
dictated a continuity all his own. OF
which nobody but himself could
make head or tail +, and which at
times in the curse of its production
seemed to puzzle ever its perpe-
traitor.
In the meantime Lucinda had
moved to the Hollywood Hotel. the
Lontaines to a furnished bungalow
nearby, where they vainiy pressed
her to Join them. She thought 1t
wiser to decline.
I'm far too fond of both of you
to risk living with you" she ex-
planned. Besides, it's high time
was learning to breathe in a proper
motion picture atmosphere"
This the Hollywood provided to
admiration. Summerlad assured Lu-
cinda, and on her W observation
she could we'll believe, that at one
stage or another of their careers al
most every motion picture player OF
consequence in the country must
have registered at this hotel.
With most of these Lucinda be-
came acquainted by sight, with
many she grew accustomed to ex-
change smiles and the time of day.
They made up to her saucilly or
shyly, according to the style they
believed became them best. But on
one point they were all agreed: they
wanted work. Lucinda spoke to
Lynn Summerlad, and was rewarded
with a worried frown, the first sign
of care she had ever detected in
him, together with some w~ell-chosen
thoughts on the dangers of contract
ing haphazard hotel and acquaint-
~anceships.
First thing you know, they'll be
trying to borrow money from you
Lucinda was silent for want OF a
conscience that would sanction an
indignant rejoiner.
But this is. after all, Hollywood"
mo excuse for doing as the Hol-
lywoodenheads do" .
Then, L take it, you think 1t
might be more discreet of me to stop
going about with you alone"
20, Lord!" Summerlad groaned.
Il might've known better than to
start an argument with a woman.
[ don't like to think of any outside
influences working on you just now
Just now?"
"D%istracting your attention from
really important matters, like me
and what you're going to do o
me. I'm so desperately in love with
you, Linda"
Lucinda said nothing for a little.
She had been expecting this for days.
Now that it came it found her, OF
course, unprepared. Nothing to
complain of in that; a declaration OF
love always finds a oma unpre-
pared, no matter how long she may
have been preparing for it. The
primitive instinct of flight from the
male is deathless, though it mani
fest only as in hat one brief mo-
ment of panic which Lucinda knew.
She was glad of the darkness of
that section of the hotel veranda
where they had been sitting for a
quarter of an hour after returning
from dinner a deux.
This had been bound to come be-
fore long. One knew the signs in
a man who held his peace about as
long as he could . . . Five weeks
since that night when. in the Beverly
Hills bungalow, she had concluded
that Summeriad's interest in her was
neither impersonal o of a transit
tory nature -.
The worst of it was. she was glad.
We'll Linda? 2"
She put away her p~ensiveness.
smiling to see Summerlad bending
forward in his chair, anxiousiy
searching her face for a clue TO her
mind but with the anxiety of inn
patience more than the anxiety OF
doubt. He wanted TO have her in
his arms. A pleasant place to be,
perhaps: but she wasn't ready yet.
she was not sure -.
We'll. my friend!" she said in
amused indulgence-'so 1t seems you
love me-"
How long have you known it?"
Quite as long as you have loved
me-"
And you-?'"
II don't know yet"
He ventured too confidently: II
don't want to hurry you"
"You couldn't, Lynn. And-you