merton of the movies-第27节

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ish　you　all　the　luck　in　the　world；　girlie；　and　remember　your　job　as　filin'　clerk　will　always　be　here　for　you。'　Wasn't　that　gentlemanly　of　him？　Still；　I'd　rather　act　than　stand　on　my　feet　all　day　filing　letters。　I　won't　go　back　till　I　have　to。〃

〃Me　either；〃　said　Merton　Gill；　struggling　against　the　obsession　of　Saturday…night　dinner　at　Gashwiler's。

Grimly　he　resumed　his　seat　when　the　girl　with　a　friendly　〃So　long！〃　had　trudged　on。　In　spite　of　himself　he　found　something　base　in　his　nature　picturing　his　return　to　the　emporium　and　to　the　thrice…daily　encounter　with　Metta　Judson's　cookery。　He　let　his　lower　instincts　toy　with　the　unworthy　vision。　Gashwiler　would　advance　him　the　money　to　return；　and　the　job　would　be　there。　Probably　Spencer　Grant　had　before　this　tired　of　the　work　and　gone　into　insurance　or　some　other　line；　and　probably　Gashwiler　would　be　only　too　glad　to　have　the　wanderer　back。　He　would　get　off　No。　3　just　in　time　for　breakfast。

He　brushed　the　monstrous　scene　from　his　eyes；　shrugged　it　from　his　shoulders。　He　would　not　give　up。　They　had　all　struggled　and　sacrificed；　and　why　should　he　shrink　from　the　common　ordeal？　But　he　wished　the　Spanish　girl　hadn't　talked　about　going　back　to　her　job。　He　regretted　not　having　stopped　her　with　words　of　confident　cheer　that　would　have　stiffened　his　own　resolution。　He　could　see　her　far　down　the　street；　on　her　way　to　the　next　lot；　her　narrow　shoulders　switching　from　light　to　shadow　as　she　trudged　under　the　line　of　eucalyptus　trees。　He　hoped　she　wouldn't　give　up。　No　one　should　ever　give　upleast　of　all　Merton　Gill。

The　days　wore　wearily　on。　He　began　to　feel　on　his　own　face　the　tired　little　smile　of　the　woman　in　the　casting　office　as　she　would　look　up　to　shake　her　head；　often　from　the　telephone　over　which　she　was　saying：　〃Nothing　to…day；　dear。　Sorry！〃　She　didn't　exactly　feel　that　the　motion…picture　business　had　gone　on　the　rocks；　but　she　knew　it　wasn't　picking　up　as　it　should。　And　ever　and　again　she　would　have　Merton　Gill　assure　her　that　he　hadn't　forgotten　the　home　address；　the　town　where　lived　Gighampton　or　Gumwash　or　whoever　it　was　that　held　the　good　old　job　open　for　him。　He　had　divined　that　it　was　a　jest　of　some　sort　when　she　warned　him　not　to　forget　the　address　and　he　would　patiently　smile　at　this；　but　he　always　put　her　right　about　the　name　of　Gashwiler。　Of　course　it　was　a　name　any　one　might　forget；　though　the　woman　always　seemed　to　make　the　most　earnest　effort　to　remember　it。

Each　day；　after　his　brief　chat　with　her　in　which　he　learned　that　there　would　be　nothing　to…day；　he　would　sit　on　the　waiting…room　bench　or　out　under　the　eucalyptus　tree　and　consecrate　himself　anew　to　the　art　of　the　perpendicular　screen。　And　each　day；　as　the　little　hoard　was　diminished　by　even　those　slender　repasts　at　the　drug　store；　he　ran　his　film　of　the　Gashwiler　dining　room　in　action。

From　time　to　time　he　would　see　the　Montague　girl；　alone　or　with　her　mother；　entering　the　casting　office　or　perhaps　issuing　from　the　guarded　gate。　He　avoided　her　when　possible。　She　persisted　in　behaving　as　if　they　had　been　properly　introduced　and　had　known　each　other　a　long　time。　She　was　too　familiar；　and　her　levity　jarred　upon　his　more　serious　mood。　So　far　as　he　could　see；　the　girl　had　no　screen　future；　though　doubtless　she　was　her　own　worst　enemy。　If　someone　had　only　taught　her　to　be　serious；　her　career　might　have　been　worth　while。　She　had　seemed　not　wholly　negligible　in　the　salmon…pink　dancing　frock；　though　of　course　the　blonde　curls　had　not　been　true。

Then　the　days　passed　until　eating　merely　at　a　drug…store　lunch　counter　became　not　the　only　matter　of　concern。　There　was　the　item　of　room　rent。　Mrs。　Patterson；　the　Los　Angeles　society　woman；　had；　upon　the　occasion　of　their　first　interview；　made　it　all　too　clear　that　the　money；　trifling　though　it　must　seem　for　a　well…furnished　room　with　the　privilege　of　electric　iron　in　the　kitchen；　must　be　paid　each　week　in　advance。　Strictly　in　advance。　Her　eye　had　held　a　cold　light　as　she　dwelt　upon　this。

There　had　been　times　lately　when；　upon　his　tree　bench；　he　would　try　to　dramatize　Mrs。　Patterson　as　a　woman　with　a　soft　heart　under　that　polished　society　exterior；　chilled　by　daily　contact　with　other　society　people　at　the　Iowa　or　Kansas　or　other　society　picnics；　yet　ready　to　melt　at　the　true　human　touch。　But　he　had　never　quite　succeeded　in　this　bit　of　character　work。　Something　told　him　that　she　was　cold　all　through；　a　society　woman　without　a　flaw　in　her　armour。　He　could　not　make　her　seem　to　listen　patiently　while　he　explained　that　only　one　company　was　now　shooting　on　the　lot；　but　that　big　things　were　expected　to　be　on　in　another　week　or　so。　A　certain　skeptic　hardness　was　in　her　gaze　as　he　visioned　it。

He　decided；　indeed；　that　he　could　never　bring　himself　even　to　attempt　this　scene　with　the　woman；　so　remote　was　he　from　seeing　her　eye　soften　and　her　voice　warm　with　the　assurance　that　a　few　weeks　more　or　less　need　not　matter。　The　room　rent；　he　was　confident；　would　have　to　be　paid　strictly　in　advance　so　long　as　their　relations　continued。　She　was　the　kind　who　would　insist　upon　this　formality　even　after　he　began　to　play；　at　an　enormous　salary；　a　certain　outstanding　part　in　the　Hazards　of　Hortense。　The　exigencies；　even　the　adversities；　of　art　would　never　make　the　slightest　appeal　to　this　hardened　soul。　So　much　for　that。　And　daily　the　hoard　waned。

Yet　his　was　not　the　only　tragedy。　In　the　waiting　room；　where　he　now　spent　more　of　his　time；　he　listened　one　day　to　the　Montague　girl　chat　through　the　window　with　the　woman　she　called　Countess。

〃Yeah；　Pa　was　double…crossed　over　at　the　Bigart。　He　raised　that　lovely　set　of　whiskers　for　Camillia　of　the　Cumberlands　and　what　did　he　get　for　it？just　two　weeks。　Fact！　What　do　you　know　about　that？　Hugo　has　him　killed　off　in　the　second　spool　with　a　squirrel　rifle　from　ambush；　and　Pa　thinking　he　would　draw　pay　for　at　least　another　three　weeks。　He　kicked；　but　Hugo　says　the　plot　demanded　it。　I　bet；　at　that；　he　was　just　trying　to　cut　down　his　salary　list。　I　bet　that　continuity　this　minute　shows　Pa　drinking　his　corn　out　of　a　jug　and　playing　a　fiddle　for　the　dance　right　down　to　the　last　scene。　Don't　artists　get　the　razz；　though。　And　that　Hugo；　he'd　spend　a　week　in　the　hot　place　to　save　a　thin　dime。　Let　me　tell　you；　Countess；　don't　you　ever　get　your　lemon　in　his　squeezer。〃

There　were　audible　murmurs　of　sympathy　from　the　Countess。

〃And　so　the　old　trouper　had　to　start　out　Monday　morning　to　peddle　the　brush。　Took　him　three　days　to　land　anything　at　all；　and　then　it's　nothing　but　a　sleeping　souse　in　a　Western　bar…room　scene。　In　here　now　he　issomething　the　Acme　people　are　doing。　He's　had　three　days；　just　lying　down　with　his　back　against　a　barrel　sleeping。　He's　not　to　wake　up　even　when　the　fight　starts；　but　sleep　right　on　through　it；　which　they　say　will　be　a　good　gag。　Well；　maybe。　But　it's　tough　on　his　home。　He　gets　all　his　rest　daytimes　and　keeps　us　restless　all　night　making　a　new　kind　of　beer　and　tending　his　still；　and　so　on。　You　bet　Ma　and　I；　the　minute　he's　through　with　this　piece；　are　going　pronto　to　get　that　face　of　his　as　naked　as　the　day　he　was　born。　Pa's　so　temperamentallike　that　time　he　was　playing　a　Bishop　and　never　touched　a　drop　for　five　weeks；　and　in　bed　every　night　at　nine…thirty。　Me？　Oh；　I'm　having　a　bit　of　my　own　in　this　Acme　pieceGod's　Great　Outdoors；　I　think　it　isanyway；　I'm　to　be　a　little　blonde　hussy　in　the　bar…room；　sitting　on　the　miners'　knees　and　all　like　that；　so　they'll　order　more　drinks。　It　certainly　takes　all　kinds　of　art　to　make　an　artist。　And　next　week　I　got　some　shipwreck　stuff　for　Baxter；　and　me　with　bronchial　pneumonia　right　this　minute；　and　hating　tank　stuff；　anyway。　Well；　Countess；　don't　take　any　counterfeit　money。　So　long。〃

She　danced　through　a　doorway　and　was　goneshe　was　one　who　seldom　descended　to　plain　walking。　She　would　manage　a　dance　step　even　in　the　short　distance　from　the　castingoffice　door　to　the　window。　It　was　not　of　such　material；　Merton　Gill　was　sure；　that　creative　artists　were　moulded。　And　there　was　no　question　now　of　his　own　utter　seriousness。　The　situation　hourly　grew　more　desperate。　For　a　week　he　had　foregone　the　drug…store　pie；　so　that　now　he　recalled　it　as　very　wonderful　pie　indeed；　but　he　dared　no　longer　indulge　in　this　luxury。　An　occasional　small　bag　of　candy　and　as　much　sugar　as　he　could　juggle　into　his　coffee　must　satisfy　his　craving　for　sweets。　Stoically　he　awaited　the　endsome　end。　The　moving…picture　business　seemed　to　be　still　on　the　rocks；　but　things　must　take　a　turn。

He　went　over　the　talk　of　the　Montague　girl。　Her　father　had　perhaps　been　unfairly　treated；　but　at　least　he　was　working　again。　And　there　were　other　actors　who　would　go　unshaven　for　even　a　sleeping　part　in　the　bar…room　scene　of　God's　Great　Outdoors。　Merton　Gill　knew　one；　and　rubbed　his　shaven　chin。　He　thought；　too；　of　the　girl's　warning　about　counterfeit　money。　He　had　not　known　that　the　casting　director's　duties　required　her　to　handle　money；　but　probably　he　had　overlooked　this　item　in　her　routine。　And　was　counterfeit　money　about？　He　drew　out　his　own　remaining　bill　and　scrutinized　it　anxiously。　It　seemed　to　be　genuine。　He　hoped　it　was；　for　Mrs。　Patterson's　sake；　and　was　relieved　when　she　accepted　it　without　question　that　night。

Later　he