Photoplay Magazine Cover — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Photoplay ttle patter on the stairs, and he landing, flushed but quiet have James let you know. I may go to the club. But be ‘careful about your selection of food, Lucy. This hot weather, you know—something light and cool, but nourishing, some- pening that will tempt my appetite and still give me the right ‘strength. Don’t forget the clothes to be pressed—both light uits. And darling, make out the checks for all the first of he month bills, and I'll sign them when I come home. Good- y, sweetheart, Oh, yes, you might order those new books Tom McInnes spoke of. Don’t forget. My lamb is such a ‘forgetful little girl, though you'd think with so little on her mind and when she’s been married eight long years, she’d learn how to think, _ “Oh, yes, dear, be sure to have my two new dress shirts— the two I like, you know—clean, will you? I think we'll get to the dinner stuff in a day or two, Better do them yourself, sweetheart, since you haven't anything else to do, because I lon’t always like the way they’re done when anyone else does hem. And are my dinner clothes all ready to put on? 29 “By the way, midge, perhaps you'd better come over to the Magazine studio this afternoon and look over the dressing room. I’m nearly out of powder and cream and you know, darling, how it upsets me if I get in a mess. Good-by, darling.” He climbed in. The motor started. Lucy held her breath. There was a wail from the ton- neau—no other word could scribe it. She rushed down steps. “What is it, dear?” she cried, She was not calmed by the sight of two heads—blonde and curly, and belonging to a couple of girls who worked at the studio and had crushes on Hugh—which appeared in the window across the street at that moment. “My stick, Lucy. You almost let me go away without my stick.” Mrs. Beresford ran back into the house and brought out a_ polished brown stick with a curved handle which she handed him. Her temper was getting out of hand. Why didn’t he go? He contemplated the cane for a long moment. Then, slowly, “N-no, dearest, not this one. The gray one with the ham- mered silver handle. Quickly, Lucy, I’m getting late and you know how it upsets me if I’m late and de- the have to rush with my make-up.” Lucy Beresford flew back into the house and —could not find the stick, She hunted, desperately now, through the down- stairs closet, ran up- stairs and searched fran- tically through every closet. Her head was throbbing with confusion and her pretty face was drawn. Hopelessly she decided to try the hall closet again. It must be there. mm She started violently when she F saw a figure in the front doorway. ' Hugh would be so—but it wasn't Hugh. It was the liveried chauf- feur. He touched his cap. Mrs. Beres- ford nodded, gasping. “Mr. Beresford says he’s in a hurry, But I think myself—that is, I'm sure he left that ma‘am. gray stick with the silver handle over to—that is, at Miss Sut- ton’s last night, Mrs. Beresford.” Lucy set her teeth and marched to the car again, followed by the chauffeur. “W/ZOU'VE left your gray stick at Maud Sutton’s,” she said. “So you'll have to carry that one.” “All right, dear, if I did. That was careless of me. why couldn’t you have remembered it sooner, love?” This time the car was really gone and Lucy Beresford— after a final glance through the window to see it actually disappearing—sat down in the cool, quiet drawing room and kicked off her high-heeled slippers. (Hugh simply couldn't bear to see her around in house shoes.) He was gone! For a quarter of an hour she sat there sputtering. Gradu- ally, she began to laugh. She (Continued on ,page I Comichooks But co