Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-03-13
iMISCAST n y
By Rita Weiman
and the Directors Insisted Upon Overlooking

"Rnt think IL over. girl. "

But think it over, girl
That's what I've been doing for
a. month. The details of the deal are
practically settled. All have to do
now is sign"
Astonishment, anger, anxiety, ap-
peal submerged one another In the
depths of his gaze.
"Why should /? You see what
YOUR answer would have BEEN"
Nothing but appeal was left in his
gaze.
but wait till tomorrow, when
you're calmer."
II won't he calm until I'm work
ing" Her voice broke, was hurriedly
caught up, held taut. Don't try to
interfere with me. If I have to gu
through another year of this I'll so
crazy"
She opened the door and stood In
the light of the outer corridor, her
back to him.
land take Jimsy in to sleep with
you" she said. without turning her
head.
''Ted-you're not"
I'm going to take a room some
where else. Don't try to stop me.
I've just got to be alone"
TIP Broadway, her ankles twisting
- on rundown heels, she went.
Some of them turned, those So
called denizens of the street of many
signs, staring after her. Others
shrugged past the anonymously gay
figure. No one recognized her. Just
another hag turned flapper. To the
Broadway of 1925 they were legion.
But Edna Ridgoway stole out of the
crowd self consciously. She would
never get used to the oblivion that
was completely hers.
Yet uncertainty had passed. AnX-
iety had passed. Anguish had passed.
She had reached that state of won
dering resignation which looks back
on years that are gone, as If they had
been lived by another person. A dull.
bordering question. A monotonous,
unacceptable, unequivocating answer.
Done for? Yes-f1nished! Long
ago! She had not seen 1t coming
this oblivion. Even now she did not
recognize it as the result of vanity.
All she knew was that she, who had
arrogated to herself the right to slam
the door of a managers office because
a part did not suit her, now sat hour
after hour In the office of a theatrical
agent waiting for some one, any one,
to send for her.
Her name was on the lists. Freddie
Lane, the agent. had shown it to her.
Yet no one seemed to notice it.
How often had she, from the peak
of popularity, asked, Whats become
of So-and-so? Never hear of her any
more" Probably no one even asked
about her.
She stumbled up a brown stone
stoop and three flights of stairs. She
let herself into rear room that look
ed out on what had once been gar
den. The window was open, it's
cracked shade Tapping inward. She
did not lift it to the warm early Sep
TENDER breeze. Those wisps of grass
and weeds lying under thick layers of
Summer dusk sickened her.
There had been A2t the slightest
attempt to camoufiaHA the room into
something habitable. Ut was so USE
less. Besides, she had grown past
efforts to hide cheapness.
Il y Il
CHE had left Freddie Lanes Office
- at o'clock, after sitting there all
day, only because 1t was closing. Her
back ached. Her feet ached. She
pulled off her hat and ran her fingers
through her hair. Against it's bril-
liant henna dye the blue-veined hands
were pale. She looked around the
room. wondering what to do until 1t
was time to go TO bed.
There was no one to see, not a soul
to talk to. Her arrival in New York
two months ago marked the end of
circle of the globe tapping over on its
beginning The ludicrous failure of
Edna Ridgeways starring venture
had long ago been forgotten on
Broadway. But there had followed,