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Updated: June 22, 2025
But he chased these thoughts from his head to be a companion to his mother. They admired flowers in gardens of homes they passed, studied interesting architecture they caught sight of, planned a picnic in the foothills John thought of the spot where he had watched Consuello before the cameras recited bits of poetry to each other and enjoyed the afternoon more than any since the death of Mr.
In another he discerned his guide, "John J. Silence," and in another he caught a glimpse of the sad-eyed bass 'cello player, his huge instrument beside him. As he left the driveway to cross to the dressing room building he saw Consuello coming toward him.
They had eaten from a solid mahogany table which, he was told, had been brought "around the Horn" in a sailing vessel. Consuello curled herself at her father's feet. Her mother, whose grandfather made the arduous trip across the isthmus which Consuello had described, was the descendant of a New England family who had adopted the picturesque customs of the Spanish family into which she had married.
John, his back toward Consuello, his eyes on the door, wondering whether it was all a dream, a cheer in his heart for the man who had left them so dramatically, feared to move. "Exit, the villain" Gibson's last words echoed in his brain. He imagined he heard Brennan saying: "A grandstander, a grandstander to the last."
"Betty, this is Mr. Gallant," said Consuello by way of an introduction. "Consuello has spoken of you, often," said Betty, advancing with a friendly smile and an outstretched hand. Mentally John thanked her for the words. He knew instinctively that he would like her and that she would be a friend to him. "Miss Carrillo has been more than kind to me," he said.
John imagined he saw Mrs. Sprockett and her husband peering out of the window of the Sprockett house across the street. The trust that Consuello reposed in him when she told him of her promise to marry Gibson, John held inviolable to the extent that he did not mention it to his mother.
They don't seem to have the courage to go after him." "Why don't they take this 'Gink' person and put him in the penitentiary?" asked Consuello. Gibson laughed. "That appears to be an impossibility," he said. "They have tried it time and again, but each time he was too clever for them." "Of course," smiled Consuello. "It was silly of me to have asked such a question.
During the following week John learned the answer to his mother's question of why Consuello lived in Los Angeles, away from her parents, the inquiry that had provoked him to anger because he took it as an insinuation against Consuello's character. Consuello called him one morning by telephone. "Have you an hour or so to spare, today?" she asked. "It all depends " he began.
"Then you'll admit that something else someone else, perhaps " he said. "I saw no one, except Betty, from the time you left until Mr. Gallant came this evening," Consuello said. "I'm thankful that I was able to decide before I read what was in the paper today. Reggie, how often have I told you my conception of love. Don't you know that if I cared for you nothing would have kept me from you?
His suspicion that her condemnation of photoplays and everyone connected with them was being fostered by someone else had been substantiated by an incident which occurred shortly after the night she had turned her back on Consuello. That Mrs. Sprockett, "from across the street" as John always thought of her had interrupted one of the evening chats he always had with his mother.
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