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Updated: May 15, 2025
But Bloeckman anticipated him by asking pleasantly: "How's your wife? ..." "She's very well. How've you been?" "Excellent." His tone amplified the grandeur of the word. It seemed to Anthony that during the last year Bloeckman had grown tremendously in dignity. The boiled look was gone, he seemed "done" at last. In addition he was no longer overdressed.
And I'm so utterly tired of that fellow Bloeckman coming here and interfering. I hate theatrical things." "It isn't theatrical! It's utterly different." "What am I supposed to do? Chase you all over the country? Live on your money?" "Then make some yourself." The conversation developed into one of the most violent quarrels they had ever had.
Well, Dick subscribes to a clipping bureau and he's furious because about half the movie reviewers speak of the 'power and strength of William Jordan's "Demon Lover." Didn't mention old Dick at all. You'd think this fellow Jordan had actually conceived and developed the thing." Bloeckman nodded comprehensively.
After the ensuing reconciliation and the inevitable period of moral inertia, she realized that he had taken the life out of the project. Neither of them ever mentioned the probability that Bloeckman was by no means disinterested, but they both knew that it lay back of Anthony's objection. In April war was declared with Germany.
No matter for Anthony, Anthony the poor in spirit, the weak and broken man with bloodshot eyes, for whom she still had moments of tenderness. No matter. She would be twenty-nine in February a hundred days, so many days; she would go to Bloeckman to-morrow. With the decision came relief.
Regarding him narrowly Bloeckman followed Anthony to a half bend made by the staircase where they were beyond observation or earshot of any one entering or leaving the restaurant. "Well?" he inquired. "Wanted talk to you." "What about?" Anthony only laughed a silly laugh; he intended it to sound casual. "What do you want to talk to me about?" repeated Bloeckman. "Wha's hurry, old man?"
The man's memorized it!" Gloria alone made no sound. She fixed Mr. Bloeckman with a glance of silent reproach. "Well, for the love of Heaven! Where on earth did you dig that up?" Bloeckman looked at her uncertainly, not sure of her intention. But in a moment he recovered his poise and assumed the bland and consciously tolerant smile of an intellectual among spoiled and callow youth.
There was no sign or sound of life save for the continuous buzzing in his own ears, but after a moment Anthony himself broke the silence with a distinct and peculiar murmur. It was the sound that he had consistently attempted to make back there in the Boul' Mich', when he had been face to face with Bloeckman the unmistakable sound of ironic laughter.
One thing you leave her alone. You go to hell!" "See here I think you're a little crazy!" exclaimed Bloeckman. He took two paces forward as though to pass by, but Anthony stepped in his way. "Not so fas', you Goddam Jew." For a moment they stood regarding each other, Anthony swaying gently from side to side, Bloeckman almost trembling with fury. "Be careful!" he cried in a strained voice.
"You went to Bloeckman?" "Yes." "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded incredulously, the smile fading from his face. "Because you were probably off drinking somewhere. He had them give me a test, and they decided that I wasn't young enough for anything except a character part." "A character part?" "The 'woman of thirty' sort of thing. I wasn't thirty, and I didn't think I looked thirty."
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