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Updated: May 11, 2025
My pretty pictures! The company owes me a week's salary. And I had counted on the money. What's to become of me?" Ferriday resented her eternal use of him for her own advantages. "Why do you appeal to me? Where's your friend Dyckman?" "I was to see him this evening dine with him." "Well, he can build you ten new studios and not feel it. Better ask him to set you up in business."
One of his first duties, Charity told him, was to call at the Hyperfilm Studio and try to engage that Mr. Ferriday for director and learn the ropes. "While you're there you might inquire about that little girl you pulled out of the pool. I sent her there. They promised her a job. Her name was I have it at home in my address-book. I'll telephone it to you." And she did.
And so Kedzie was sheltered and passed on upward by Skip Magruder the lunch-room waiter, and by Mr. Kalteyer the chewing-gum purveyor, by Eben E. Kiam the commercial photographer, by Thomas Gilfoyle the advertising bard, by Ferriday the motion-picture director, on up and up to Jim Dyckman. Every man gave her the best help he could. And even the women she met unconsciously assisted her skyward.
There was no parrot on an area fire-escape to mock her next morning, but there was a still earlier rooster to banish sleep and parody her triumph. She slipped out of bed and went barefoot to the window-seat and gazed out into a garden. She made a picture there that Ferriday would have loved in a "close-up."
Ferriday, once her accomplice in the noble business of getting Dyckman to back her, was revealed now as a cheap swindler trying to keep Mrs. Dyckman in trade at her husband's expense. "I'm through with the pictures, I tell you!" she stormed. "I'm sick of the cheap notoriety. I'm tired of being public property. I can't go out on the street without being pointed at. It's disgusting.
And I hope I haven't caused you too much inconvenience." Ferriday betrayed how much he was hurt by his violent efforts to conceal it. "Not at all. It happens that I've just found another little girl to take your place. This one drifted in among the extras, just as you did, and she's a dream. I'll show her to the managers, and they may be so glad to get her they won't charge you a cent.
Ferriday saying that he was unavoidably prevented from being present. Dyckman grinned: "We'll have to bear up under it the best we can. You won't run away just because your chaperon is gone, will you?" Kedzie smiled and said she would stay. But she was puzzled. What was Ferriday up to? One always suspected that Ferriday was up to something and thinking of something other than what he did or said.
He called it "shah pine," according to Kedzie's ear, but she hoped he meant shampane. She had always wanted to taste "wealthy water," as Gilfoyle called it, but never called for it. Kedzie was a trifle alarmed when Ferriday said: "I hope you don't like it sweet. It can't be too dry for me." "Me, either," Kedzie assured him and made a face implying that she always took it in the form of a powder.
He would want to take her home in his car, and it would be just her luck to find her husband on the door-step. In any case, she was afraid that Ferriday would be sentimental and she did not want Ferriday to be sentimental just yet. And she would not tolerate a sentiment inspired or influenced by wine. Love from a bottle is the poorest of compliments.
Just as she reached for it the telephone rang and a hall-boyish voice told her that it was seven o'clock. This was the midnight alarm to Cinderella, and she became again a poor working-girl. She had to abandon her prince and run from the palace of dreams to the studio of toil. She was a trifle surly when she confronted Ferriday.
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