Crossroads of Desire by Amos Hatter — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

CROSSROADS OF DESIRE “It is?” “Yes and I want you to take me there after the show tonight, Philip,” It was so seldom that Connie made a request of him these days that he was elated and only too glad to oblige. That, however, did not accommodate his bewilderment. “But why to a saloon on Third Avenue? Is the food supposed to be extra good, or something?” “Yes. That’s it,’ said Connie smiling for the first time that evening. “And you know how hungry I’ll:be by midnight.’ A great tenderness and yearning came into Phillip’s eyes as he gazed across the table at this enchanting little dancer. Her eyes were like magic pools, holding love and fullfilment in their clear depths. Her enormous vitality, if ever properly unleashed, could provide Philip with undreamed of delights forevermore. “Tll take you to O’Brien’s saloon after the show tonight, my dear. I’ll take you anywhere in the world,” he announced with restored confidence. CHAPTER TWO A CROWD was milling under the brightly lighted marquee of the Avon Theater when Connie and Philip arrived at a quarter after eight. The Standing Room Only sign had been hung up three weeks ago and orchestra seats went for a premium right up to curtain time. The reason for all the hubbub was a Single scene in the ballet Libretto starring Miss Constance Carter, The Ballet du Roi was a troupe of competent dancers but the critics had been unimpressed until Connie came along. What did it was the Libretto love scene between Connie and _her male partner. The background was that of a forest with Connie in the role of nymph fleeing the advances of a love- crazed satyr. The twist that held the audience entranced and brought raves from the critics was that the nymph, for a change, suddenly seduced the satyr. In such a character Connie had proven herself superb. Right up to the last minute she was 12 » CROSSROADS OF DESIRE beauty pursued by the beast. An then the tables were turned. What happened to the satyr after that was already a Broadway legend. Some ventured the opinion that the thing was pretty risque. Others said that was putting it mildly. The unhappy censors, caught between popular demand and the mores of fine art, decided they’d have no more tuck condemning the Ballet du Roi than they would Cellini’s salt shaker and tactfully withheld all comment. Connie hurried along the stage alley between high brick walls, nodded companionably to the guard at the door and entered. She did not, as was her custom, go at once to her private dressing room. Instead, she stepped around into the Wing of the stage and peered at the performers who were beginning to limber up for the first number. “Hey, Jack,” she called, ‘come over here a minute.” Jack Clayton ceased doing knee bends and joined her. “Fine party you gave this afternoon, Connie.” She ignored that. “Who is that fellow Larry Brooks you brought along?” “Larry?” Jack grinned. “He’s a guy from my old home town. Springfield, Illinois. Peach of a fellow but he hasn’t had much luck here in New York.” “He told me he plays the piano.” “That's right, He came here a couple of years ago to be a concert pianist but it didn’t pay off.” “Have you.ever been to O’Brien’s where he plays?” Jack nodded. “It’s not a bad joint. Anything but fancy. Not in your class at all.” *T don’t know about that, Is the food any good?” “Cheap but nourishing,” Jack laughed. “Don't tell me you're going there.” “Larry invited me to drop around.” “Oh brother! I’d like to see O’Brien’s face when he recog-~ nizes you. There hasn’t been a celebrity in there since prohibition.” “This Larry Brooks,’ she said, eyeing him speculatively, ‘is he engaged, or in love or anything?” “Tle’s a pal of one of the waitresses over there. That’s all I know, What’s it all about, Connie? Did you go for the guy?” She shook her head. ‘No. I was just curious.” 13 CORMIEIOO;KS.EORN