New Britain herald., 1927-01-29

a girl Is going to photograph"
 Robbie smiled serenely. She knew she would not look like can of paint! She knew that her pho- tographs were always flattering. Just inside the doorway of the building was a small white- painted office. In the middle of 1t sat a woman all in black Her white hair lay in smooth scallops around her face, and she wore glasses on the bridge Of | high aristocratic nose This wasS Mrs. Hammond, the wardrobe mistress at the Mag nifca Studios.
 Morning, Mrs. Hammond" said Monica, who seemed to be on fa- miliar terms with everybody in the place. This is new girl that Mr Schultz sent over. He wants you 1 to fit her up with one Of the pink ballet costumes that he used for the dancers In 'Ruffles.' Mrs. Hammond stood up and beckoned Robbie to follow her. They went upstairs to great barn-like room where racks and racks of bright-cplored dresses | hung in raihbow-colored rows. Velvets all spangled with silver and gold. gaily eolored hoopskirts. Red Cross uniforms, chiffon dress es of the last century, and finally on a rack in a dark corner the pink ballet dresses.
 There was not much to them. Just wide bodice with spanged shoulder straps. and a puff of short airy tulle skirts.
 Mrs. Hammond ran her eyes over Boobies slenderness. took a measurement here and there, and then handed her one of the cos- tunes.
 T think you'll be able to get into this one, Miss-er,' she said in a voice that made Robbie think of Aunt Gertrude. And here are the tights and the ballet slippers that belong with it."
 She opened door and left Bob- bic alone in room with walls of white-washed brick. There was noting in it but a long mirror and a cluster of electric lights.
 You can try them on in here" she told the girl, and closed the door
 When Robbie opened it five min utes later she felt as light as a feather. And she looked like a pink feather blown along by wind as she ran down the stairs to the floor below.
 Well, here'I am!" she greeted Monica with laugh that had note of pure happiness in it. Moth ing makes a girl feel half so light hearted as the knowledge that she is looking her very best-and Bob bic was.
 Stage Number Three was very dafk and gloomy except for the one bright spot where Roy Schultz was directing scene from "The Dryad in the Dalc," starring the famous Joan Joyce
 That spot was very bright in- deed. The set was part of a supper room showing long table a-glitter with glass and silver and tall can dies.
 The extra girls in their evening dresses. and several good-looking extra men, were sitting at 1t. At one end, lolling in a high-backed chair. sat Joan Joyce, herself.
 "O-o-oh" breathed Robbie, when she caught sight of her, Joan Joyce-'
 What's so wonderful about her!" asked Monica with a bored air. ,'I think she looks like hunk of ice. myself"
 But Robbie couldn't take her eyes from the famous star She didn't know then that Joan Joyce's golden hair was wig, and that heaven-blue grease paint gave her eyes that lure and mystery.
 She simply knew that she was looking at the real Joan Joyce whom she had watched on the sil- yer sheet for years. And in her own eyes, as she went forward, was the starry look of a child that sees it's first Christmas tree!
 She stood just within the white circle of light, poised like flower on its stalk, lips half parted with a wistful smile, and one hand held against the spray of tawny silk roses on her breast.
 That was the way Angus Mac Cloud saw Robbie for the first time in makeup.
 He was standing back in the dimness behind the four clicking cameras when she came on the set. It was the fourth time he had seen her in the four days since she had. come to Hollywood-but he never had good look at her until that moment.
 The other three times she had been. for him. just an extremely pretty girl who would do much toward decorating a picture = or  who would do for a small filtration. A drive up in the hills, supper at Montmartre. Something like that.
 But this time there was some- thing about her that he hadn't seen before something that touched him deeply. Perhaps 1t was the wistful little smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. Or perhaps it was the eager look in her big eyes. A look that was almost pa- thetic in its eagerness.
 At any rate. there was some thing about the slim poised pink figure that stirred him as the sight of no other woman ever had-and he had seen nothing but beautiful women for ten or eleven years. Ever since he had been working