 Book III. The success of the House of Shams was as immediate and complete as was the social success of its author. After a few faint-hearted attempts, Philip and Elizabeth both agreed that the wisest course was to play the bold game, to submit himself to the photographer, the interviewer, and to some judicious extent to the wave of hospitality which flowed upon him from all sides. He threw aside, completely and utterly, every idea of leading a more or less sheltered life. His photograph was in the Sunday newspapers and the magazines. It was quite easy in satisfying the appetite of journalists for copious personal details, especially after the hints dropped by Mr. Fink, to keep them carefully off the subject of his immediate past. There had been many others in the world who, on attaining fame, had preferred to gloss over their earlier history. It seemed to be tacitly understood, amongst this wonderful freemasonry of newspaper men, that Mr. Merton Ware was to be humored in this way. He was a man of the present. Character sketches of him were to be all foreground, but nevertheless Philip had his trials. I want to introduce you to one of our chief movie men. Noel Bridges said to him one day in the smoking-room of the lambs. He is much interested in the play, too. Mr. Raymond Green shake hands with Mr. Merton Ware. Mr. Raymond Green, smiling and urbane, turned around with outstretched hand, which Philip, courteous, and with all that charm of manner which was making him speedily one of the most popular young men in New York, grasped cordially. I am very happy to meet you, Mr. Green, he said. You represent an amazing development. I am told that we shall all have to work for you presently, or find our occupation gone. With a cool calculation which had come to Philip in these days of his greater strengths, he had purposely extended his sentence, conscious, although apparently he ignored the fact, that all the time Mr. Raymond Green was staring in his face with a bewilderment which was not without its humorous side. He was too much of a man of the world, this great picture producer, to be at a loss for words, to receive an introduction with any degree of clumsiness. But surely, he almost stammered, we have met before? Philip shook his head doubtfully. I don't think so, he said. As a matter of fact, I am sure we haven't, because you are one of the men whom I hoped some day to come across over here. I couldn't possibly have forgotten a meeting with you. Mr. Raymond Green's blue eyes looked as though they saw visions. But surely, he expostulated, the elitania, my table on the elitania, when Miss Dallston crossed. Philip laughed easily. Why, he exclaimed, are you going to be like the others and take me for, was it Mr. Romley, the man who disappeared from the Waldorf? Why, I've been tracked all around New York because of my likeness to that man. Likeness, Mr. Raymond Green muttered. Likeness? There was a moment's silence. Then Mr. Green knew that the time had arrived for him to pull himself together. He had carried his bewilderment to the very limits of good breeding. Well, well, he continued, fortunately at six o'clock, and I can offer you gentlemen a cocktail, for upon my word I need it. Come to look at you, Mr. Ware. There's a trifle more what I might term Savoir fair about you. That chap on the boat was a little crude in places. But believe me, sir, he went on thrusting his arm through wares and leading him towards the bar. You don't want to be annoyed at those people who have mistaken you for Romley, for in the whole course of my life, and I've traveled round the world a pretty good deal. I never came across a likeness so entirely extraordinary. I have heard other people mention it, Noel Bridges intervened. Although not quite with the same conviction as you, Mr. Green. Curiously enough, however, the photograph of Romley, which they sent out from England, and which was in all the Sunday papers, didn't strike me as being particularly like Mr. Ware. It was a damn bad photograph that, Mr. Raymond Green pronounced. I saw it, couldn't make head nor tail of it myself. Well, the world is full of queer surprises, but this is the queerest I ever run up against. Believe me, Mr. Ware, if this man Romley, who disappeared, had been a millionaire, you could have walked into his family circle and been made welcome at the present moment. Why, I don't believe his own wife or sister, if he had such appendages, would have been able to tell that you weren't the man. Unfortunately, Bridges remarked, as he sipped the cocktail which the cinema man had ordered. This chap Romley was broke, wasn't he? Did a scoot to avoid the smash-up? They say that he had a few hundred thousand dollars over here, ostensibly for buying material, and that he has taken the lot out west. Well, I must say he didn't seem that sort on the steamer, Mr. Raymond Green declared, but you never can tell, look to me more like a schoolteacher. Someday, Mr. Ware, I want you to come along to my office, it's just around the corner on Broadway there, and have a chat about the play. You don't want to film us before we've finished its first run, surely? Philip protested, laughing. Give us a chance. Well, we'll talk about that, the cinema magnate promised. They were joined by other acquaintances, and Philip presently made his escape. One of the moments which he had dreaded more than any other had come and passed, even if Mr. Raymond Green had still some slight misgivings, he was, to all effects and purposes, convinced. Philip walked down the street, feeling that one more obstacle in the path of his absolute freedom had been torn away. He glanced at his watch and boarded a downtown car, descended in the heart of the city region of Broadway, and threaded his way through several streets until he came to the back entrance of a dry-good store. Here he glanced once more at his watch and commenced slowly to walk up and down. The timekeeper, who was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watched him with interest. When Philip approached for the third time, he addressed him in a friendly fashion. Waiting for one of our gals, eh? Philip stifled his quick annoyance and answered in as matter of fact a tone as possible. Yes, how long will it be before they are out from the type-writing department? Type-writing department, the man repeated. Well, that depends some upon the work. They'll be out most likely in ten minutes or so. I guess you were after one of our showroom, young ladies. We get some real swells down here sometimes, motor-cars of their own. The typist ain't much, as a rule. It's a skinny job, theirs. The young ladies from here appear to be prosperous, where remarked. I watched them last night coming out. My friend happened to be late, and I had to leave without seeing her. That's nothing to go by. Their clothes ain't, the man replied. They spend all their money on their backs instead of putting it inside. If it's Miss Grimes you're waiting for, you're in luck, for here she is, first out. Philip drew a little into the background. The girl came down the stone passage, passed a time-keeper without appearing to notice his familiar good evening, and stepped out into the murky street. Philip, who saw her face as she emerged from the gloom, gave a little start. She seemed paler than ever, and she walked with her eyes fixed upon vacancy, as though almost unconscious of her whereabouts. She crossed the sidewalk without noticing the curb-stone, and stumbled at the unexpected depth of it. Philip stepped hastily forward. Miss Grimes, he exclaimed, Martha, why do you look at me as though I were a ghost? She started violently. It was certain that she saw him then for the first time. You, Mr. Ware, sorry I didn't see you. He insisted upon shaking hands. There was a little streak of color in her cheeks now. I came to meet you, he explained. I came yesterday and missed you. I have been to your rooms four times, and only found out with difficulty where you were working. The last time I called, I rang the bell six times, but the door was locked. I was in bed, she said shortly. I can't have gentlemen-callers there at all now. Father's gone off on tour. Thank you for coming to meet me, but I don't think you'd better stop. Why not? he asked gently. Because I don't want to be seen about with you, she declared. Because I don't want you to look at me. Because I want you to leave me alone. She added, with a little passionate choke in her voice. He turned and walked by her side. Martha, he said, you were very kind to me when I needed it. You were a companion to me when I was more miserable than I ever thought any human being could be. I was in a quandary then, in a very difficult position. I took a plunge. In a way I have been successful. Oh, we all know that, she replied bitterly. Pictures everywhere, notices in the paper all the time. You and your fine play. I've seen it. Didn't think much of it myself. But I suppose I'm not a judge. Tell me why you came out there, looking as though you'd seen a ghost, he asked. Discharged, she answered promptly. Why? Fainted yesterday, she went on, and was a bit wobbly today. The head clerk said he wanted someone stronger. Brute, Philip muttered. Well, that's all right, Martha. I have some work for you. Don't want to do your work. Little fool, he exclaimed. Martha, do you know you're the most obstinate, pig-headed, prejudiced, ill-tempered little beast I ever knew? Then go along and leave me, she insisted, stopping short. If I'm all that. You're also a deer. She drew her little breath, and looked at him fiercely. Now don't be silly, he begged. I'm starving. I had no lunch, so that I could dine early. Here we are at Dorrod's. I'm not going inside there with you, she declared. Look here, he expostulated. Are we going to do a wrestling act on the sidewalk? It will be in all the papers, you know. Spoil your clothes some, wouldn't it? She remarked, looking at them disparagingly. It would indeed. Also my temper, he assured her. We are going to have a cocktail, you and I, within two minutes, young lady, and a steak afterwards. If you want to go in there with my hand on your neck, you can. But I think it would look better. She set her feet squarely upon the ground, and faced him. Mr. Ware, she said, I am in rags. Anyone can see that. Listen, I will not go into a restaurant and sit by your side to have people wonder what woman from the streets you have brought in to give a meal to out of charity. Do you hear that? I can live or I can die just by myself. If I can't keep myself, I'll die. But I won't. Nothing doing, you hear? She had been so strong, and then something in his eyes, that pitying, half-anxious expression with which he listened, suddenly seemed to sap her determination. She swayed a little upon her feet. She was indeed very tired and very weak. Philip took instant advantage of her condition. Without a moment's hesitation, he passed his arm firmly through hers, and before she could protest, she was inside the place, being led to a table, seated there with her back to the wall, with a confused tangle of words still in her throat, unuttered. Then two great tears found their way into her eyes. She said nothing because she could not. Philip was busy talking to the waiter. Soon there was a cocktail by her side, and he was drinking, smiling at her, perfectly good-natured, obviously accepting her momentary weakness and his triumph as a joke. Got you in, didn't I? he observed pleasantly. Now remember you told me the way to drink American cocktails. One look, one swallow, and down they go. She obeyed him instinctively. Then she took out a miserable little piece of a handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. What's gone wrong? he asked briskly. Tell me all about it. Father went off on tour, she explained. He left the rent owing for a month, and has been writing for money all the time. The agent who comes round doesn't listen to excuses. You pay, or out you go into the street. I've paid somehow, and nearly starved over it. Then I got this job after worrying about it Lord knows how long, and this evening I'm discharged. How much a week was it? he inquired with sympathy. Ten dollars, she replied, little enough, but I can't live without it. He changed his attitude, suddenly realizing the volcanic sensitiveness of her attitude towards him and life in general. Instinctively he felt that at a single ill-considered word she would even then, in her moment of weakness, have left him, have pushed him on one side, and walked out to whatever she might have to face. What a fool you are! he exclaimed a little briskly. Am I? she replied belligerently. Of course you are. You call yourself a daughter of New York, a city whose motto seems to be pretty well every one for himself. You know you did my typing all right, you know my play was a success, you know that I shall have to write another. What made you take it for granted that I shouldn't want to employ you, and go and hide yourself? Locked the door when I came to see you, because it was past eight o'clock, and not answer my letters. Can't have men callers now dads away, she told him, a little briskly. It's not allowed. Oh, rubbish! he answered irritably. That isn't the point. You've kept away from me. You've deliberately avoided me. You knew that I was just as lonely as you were. Then she blazed out, the salowness of her cheeks, the little dip under her cheekbones. She had grown thinner during the last week or so, made her eyes seem larger and more brilliant than ever. You, lonely, rubbish! Why, they're all running after you everywhere. Quite a social success, according to the papers. I say, ain't you afraid? Horribly, he admitted, and about the one person I could have talked to about it chucks me. I don't know anything about you or what you've done, she said. I only know that the text he laid his hand upon her fingers. She snatched them away, but accepted his warning. They were served then with their meal, and their conversation drifted into other channels. Well, he continued presently, in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone, I've found you now, and you've got to be sensible. It's true I've had a stroke of luck, but that might fall away at any moment. I've typing waiting for you, or I can get you a post at the New York Theater. You'd better first do my typing. I'll have it in your rooms tomorrow morning by nine o'clock. And would you like something in advance? No, she replied grudgingly. I'll have what I've earned when I've earned it. He sipped his claret and studied her meditatively. You're not much of a pal, are you? She scoffed at him, looked him up and down, at his well-fitting clothes, his general air of prosperity. Pal! she jeered. Look at you, Merton Ware, the great dramatist, and me, a shabby, ugly, bad-tempered, indifferent typewriter. Bad-tempered, she repeated. Yes, I am that. I didn't start out to be. I just haven't had any luck. It will all come some day, he assured her cheerfully. I think if you'd stayed different, she went on thoughtfully, if you hadn't slipped away into the clouds, shows what a selfish little beast I am, can't imagine why you bother about me. Shall I tell you why, really? he asked. Because you saved me. I don't know what from. The night we went out, I was suffering from a loneliness which was the worst torture I have ever felt. It was there in my throat and dragging down my heart, and I just felt as though any way of ending it all would be a joy. All these millions of hard-faced people intent on their own prosperity or their own petty troubles goaded me, I think, into a sort of silent fury. Just that one night I craved like a madman for a single human being to talk to. Well, I shall never forget it, Martha. Miss Grimes, she interrupted under her breath. He laughed. That doesn't really matter, does it? he asked. You've never been afraid that I should want to make love to you, have you? She glanced round into the mirror by their side, looked at her wan face, the shabby little hat, the none too tidily arranged hair which drooped over her ears, down at her shapeless jacket, her patched skirt, the shoes which were in open rebellion. Then she laughed, curiously enough, without any note of bitterness. Seems queer, doesn't it, even to think of such a thing. I've been up against it pretty hard, though. A man who gives a meal to a girl, even if she is as plain as I am, generally seeks to think he's bought her in this city. Even the men who are earning money don't give much for nothing. But you are different, she admitted. I'll be fair about it. You're different. You'll be waiting for the work at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, he asked, as indifferently as possible. I will, she promised. He leaned back and told her little anecdotes about the play, things that had happened to him during the last few weeks, speaking often of Elizabeth Dalston. By degrees the nervous unrest seemed to pass away from her. When they had finished their meal and drunk their coffee, she was almost normal. She smoked a cigarette and even accepted the box which he thrust into her hand. When he had paid the bill, she rose a little abruptly. Well, she said, you've had your way and a kind nice way it was. Now I'll have mine. I don't want any politeness. When we leave this place I am going to walk home and I am going to walk home alone. That's lucky, he replied, because I have to be at the theatre in ten minutes to meet a cinema man, button up your coat and have a good night's sleep. They left the place together. She turned away with the farewell nod and walked rapidly eastwards. He watched her cross the road. A poor little wave, she seemed, except that something had gone from her face which had almost terrified him. She carried herself, he fancied, with more buoyancy, with infinitely more confidence. And he drew a sigh of relief as he called for a taxi. End of book three, chapter three. Book number three, chapter four of the Cinema Murder. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by Lisa Esch of Bolly Beach, South Carolina. The Cinema Murder by E. Phillips Oppenheim. Chapter four. Elizabeth paused for breath at the top of the third flight of stairs. She leaned against the iron volistrade. You poor deer, she exclaimed. How many times a day did you have to do this? I didn't go out very often, he reminded her. And it wasn't every day that the lift was out of order. It's only one more flight. She looked up at the stairs, sighed and raised her smart, gray, tailor-made skirt a little higher over her shoes. Well, she announced heroically, lead on. If they would sometimes dust these steps, but after all, it doesn't matter to you now, does it? Fancy that poor girl, though. He smiled a little grimly. A few flights of stairs aren't the worst things she's had to face, I'm afraid, he said. I am rather terrified of her, Elizabeth confided, supporting herself by her companion's shoulder. I think I know that ultra-independent type. Kick me if I put my foot in it. Is this the door? Philip nodded and knocked softly. There was a sharp, come in. Put the key down, please. The figure of the typewriter said as they entered. The words had scarcely left Martha's lips before she turned around, conscious of some other influence in the room. Philip stepped forward. Ms. Grimes, he said, I've brought Ms. Dalston in to see you. She wants... he paused. Something in the stony expression of the girl who had risen to her feet and stood now facing them, her ashen paleness unrelieved by any note of color, her hands hanging in front of her, patched and shabby frock, seemed to check the words upon his lips. Her voice was low, but not soft. It seemed to create once an atmosphere of anger and resentment. What do you want? She demanded. I hope you don't mind. I am so anxious that you should do some work for me, Elizabeth exclaimed. When Mr. Ware first brought me in his play, I noticed how nicely it was typewritten. You must have been glad to find it turn out such a success. I take no notice in my work. Once it's typed, Martha Grimes declared. And I'm very sorry, but I do not like to receive visitors. I am very busy. Mr. Ware knows quite well that I like to be left alone. Elizabeth smiled at her delightfully. But it isn't always good for us, is it? She reminded her to live exactly as we would like or to have our own way in all things. There was a moment's rather queer silence. Martha Grimes seemed intent on studying the appearance of her visitor, the very beautiful woman familiar to nearly everyone in New York, perhaps at that moment, America's most popular actress. Her eyes seemed to dwell upon the little strands of fair hair that escaped from beneath her smart but simple hat. To take in the slightly deprecating lift of the eyebrows, the very attractive half-appealing smile, the smart gray tailor-made gown, with the bunch of violets in her waistband. Elizabeth was as quietly dressed as it was possible for her to be, but her appearance nevertheless brought a note of some other world into the shabby little apartment. It's the only thing I ask of life, Martha said. The only thing I get. I want to be left alone, and I will be left alone. If there is any more work, I will do it. If there isn't, I can find some somewhere else, but visitors I don't want and won't have. Elizabeth was adorably patient. She surreptitiously drew towards her a cane chair, a doubtful-looking article of furniture upon which she seated herself slowly and with great care. Well, she continued with unabated pleasantness. That is reasonable, as far as it goes, only we didn't quite understand, and it is such a long climb up here, isn't it? I came to talk about some work, but I must get my breath first. Miss Dalston thought, perhaps, Philip intervened diffidently, that you might consider accepting a post at the theatre. They always keep two stenographers there, and one of them fills up her time by private work, generally work for someone connected with the theatre. In your case, you could, of course, go on with mine. Only when I hadn't enough for you, and of course I can't compose as fast as you can type, there would be something else, and the salary would be regular. I should like a regular post, the girl admitted sullenly. So would anyone who's out of work, of course. The salary, Elizabeth explained, is $25 a week. The hours are nine to six. You have quite a comfortable room there, but when you have private work connected with the theatre, you can bring it home if you wish. Mr. Ware tells me that you work very quickly. You will finish all that you have for him today, won't you? I shall have it finished in a half an hour. Then you will be at the New York Theatre tomorrow morning at 9 o'clock, Elizabeth suggested. There are some parts to be copied. It will be very nice indeed. If you like the work, and I think you will, the girl stood there irresolute. It was obvious she was trying to bring herself under some form of thanks. Then there was a loud knock at the door, which was opened without waiting for any reply. The janitor stood there with a small key in his hand, which he threw down upon a table. He of number 200, Miss, he said. Let me have it back again tonight. He closed the door and departed. 200, Philip exclaimed. Why, that's my old room, the one up above. I must see it, Elizabeth insisted. Please let us go up there. I meant to ask you to show it to me. You're not thinking of moving, are you, Miss Grimes? Philip inquired. She snatched at the key. But he had just possessed himself of it and was swinging it from his forefinger. I don't know, she snapped. I was going up there anyway. You can't have the key today. Why not, Philip asked in surprise. Never mind. There's some things of mine up there. She broke off. They both looked at her perplexed. Philip shook his head, good-naturedly. Miss Grimes, he said, you forget that the rooms are mine till next quarter day. I promise you we will respect any of your belongings we may find there. Come along, Elizabeth. We'll see you as soon as we come down, the latter promised, nodding pleasantly. I don't know, as you will, the girl retorted fiercely. I may not be here. They climbed the last two flights of stairs together. What an extraordinary young woman, Elizabeth exclaimed. Is there any reason for her being quite so rude to me? None that I can conceive, he answered. She's always like that. And yet you took an interest in her. Why not, she is human, soured by misfortune, if you like, with an immense stalk of bravery and honesty underneath it all. She has had a drunken father practically upon her hands, and life's been pretty sorted for her. Here we are. He fitted the key into the lock and swung the door open. The clear afternoon light shone in upon the little shabby room and its worn furniture. There were only one or two insignificant belongings of Philip still lying about the place, and on the writing table, exactly opposite the spot where he used to sit, a little blue vase in which was a bunch of violets, somehow or other, it was the one arresting object in the room. They both of them looked at it in equal amazement. Is anyone living here, Elizabeth inquired? Not to my knowledge, he replied. No one could take it without my signing a release. They moved over to the desk. Elizabeth stooped down and smelt the violets, lifted them up and looked at the cut stalks. Is this where you used to sit and write? She asked. He nodded. But I never had any flowers here, he observed, gazing at them in a puzzled manner. Elizabeth looked at the vase and set it down. Then she turned towards her companion and shook her head. Oh, my dear Philip, she sighed. You really don't know what makes that girl so uncouth. You mean Martha? Of course I don't. Do you think that she rubbish? He stopped short in sudden confusion. Elizabeth passed her arm through his. She replaced the vase very carefully, looked once more around the room and led him to the door. Never mind, she said, it isn't anything serious. Of course, but it's wonderful, Philip, what memories a really lonely woman will live on, what she will do to keep that little natural vein of sentiment alive in her and how fiercely she will fight to conceal it. You can go down and wait for me in the hall. I'm going in to say goodbye to Miss Martha Grimes. I think that this time I shall get on better with her. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Philip waited nearly a quarter of an hour for Elizabeth. When at last she returned, she was unusually silent. They drove off together in her automobile. She held his fingers under the rug. Philip, dear, she said, I think it is time that you and I were married. He turned and looked at her in amazement. There was a smile upon her lips, but rather a plaintive one. He had a fancy, somehow, that there had been tears in her eyes lately. Elizabeth! If we are ever going to be, she went on softly. Why shouldn't we be married quietly, as people are sometimes, and then tell everyone afterwards? He held the joy away from him, struggling hard for composure. But a little while ago, he reminded her, he wanted to wait. Yes, she confessed, I too had my, my, what shall I call it, fear, my ghosts in the background? Ah, but not like mine, he faltered, his voice unsteady with a surging flood of passion. Elizabeth, if you really mean it, if you are going to take the risk of finding yourself the wife of the villain in a core celebrate, why? Why? You know very well that even the thought of it can draw me up into heaven, but dear, my sweetheart, remember, we've played a bold game, or rather I have with your encouragement, but we're not safe yet. Do you know anything that I don't? She asked feverishly. Well, I suppose I do, he admitted. It isn't necessarily serious, he went on quickly, as he saw the colour fade from her cheeks. But on the very night that our play was produced, whilst I was waiting about for you all at the restaurant, a man came to see me. He's one of the keenest detectives in New York, Edward Dain, his name is. He knew perfectly well that I was the man who had disappeared from the Waldorf. He told me so to my face. Then why didn't he, why didn't he do something? Because he was clever enough to suspect that there was something else behind it all, Philip said grimly. You see, he discovered that I hadn't used any of the money. He couldn't fit in any of my doings with the reports they'd had about Douglas. Somehow or other, I can't tell how, another suspicion seems to have crept into the man's brain. All the time he talked to me, I could see him trying to read in my face whether there wasn't something else. He'd stumbled across a puzzle of which the pieces didn't fit. And gone to Deighton Magna, gone to see whether there were any missing pieces to be found. He may be back any day now, but what could he discover, she faulted. God knows, Philip groaned. There's a whole ghastly truth there. If Fortune helped him, and he were clever enough, if by any devilish chance the threads came into his hand, I don't think there was ever any fear from the other side. I had all the luck, Elizabeth. Sometimes I am terrified of this man, Dane. I didn't mean to tell you this, but it's too late now. Do you know that I am watched day by day? I pretend not to notice it. I am even able now and then to shut it out from my own thoughts. But wherever I go, there's someone shadowing me, someone walking in my footsteps. I'm perfectly certain that if you were to go to the police headquarters here, you could find out where I've spent my time, since I took that room in Monmouth House. She gripped his fingers fiercely. Philip. Philip. He leaned forward, gazing with peculiar, almost passionate intentness, into the faces of the people as they swept along Broadway. Look at them, Elizabeth, he muttered. Look at that mob of men and women sweeping along the pavements there. Every kind and shape of man. Every nationality. Every age. Like the little flecks on the top of a wave. I watched them when I first came and I felt almost reckless. You think a man could plunge in there and be lost, wouldn't you? He can't. I tried it. Is there anywhere else in the world, I wonder? Is there anywhere in the living world where one can throw off everything of the past, where one can take up a new life and memory doesn't come? She shook her head. She was more composed now. The moment of feverish excitement had passed. Her shrewd and level common sense had begun to reassert itself. There isn't any such place, Philip, she told him, and if there were it wouldn't be worthwhile you're trying to find it. We are both a little hysterical this evening, but we've lost our sense of proportion. You've played for your steak. You mustn't quail. If the worse should come, you must brave it out. I believe, even then, you would be safe. But it won't come. It shan't. He gripped her hands. They were slowing up now, caught in a maze of heavy traffic a few blocks from the theatre. His voice was firm. He had regained his self-control. What an idiot I have been, he exclaimed scornfully. Never mind, that's past. There is just one more serious word, though, dear. She responded immediately to the change in his manner and smiled into his face. Well, my only real problem he went on earnestly is this. Dare I hold you to your word, Elizabeth? Dare I, for instance, say yes to the wonderful suggestion of yours? Make you my wife and risk having people look at you in years to come, point at you with pity, and say that you married a murderer who died a shameful death? Fancy how the tragedy of that would lie across your life. You, who are so wonderful, so courted, and so clever! Isn't that my affair, Philip? No, calmly? No, he answered. It's mine. She turned and laughed at him. For a moment she was her old self again. You refuse me? His eyes glowed. We'll wait, he said hoarsely, till Dane comes back from England. The car had stopped outside the theatre. Hat in hand and with his face weathed in smiles. The commissionaire had thrown open the door. The people on the pavement were about to descend. She turned back to Philip. Come in with me, she begged. Somehow I feel cold and lonely tonight. It hasn't anything to do with what we were talking about. But I feel as though something were going to happen. That something were coming out of the shadows. Something that threatens either you or me. I'm silly. But come! She clung to him as they crossed the pavement. For once she forgot to smile the little curious crowd. She looked off and her feelings. Life is so hard sometimes, she exclaimed, as they lingered for a moment near the box office. There's that poor girl, Philip, friendless and lonely. What she must suffer. God help her. God help us all. I am sick with loneliness myself, Philip. Don't leave me alone. Come with me to my room. I only want to see if there are any letters. We'll go somewhere near and dine first and change. Philip, what is the matter with me? I don't want to go a step alone. I don't want to be alone for a moment. He laughed reassuringly and drew her closer to him. She led the way down the passage towards her own suite of apartments. They passed one or two of the officials of the theatre, whom she greeted with something less than her usual charm of manner. As they reached the manager's office there was the sound of loud voices and the door was thrown open. Mr. Fink appeared, and with him a somewhat remarkable figure, a tall, immensely broad, ill-dressed man with a strong, rugged face and a mass of great hair. A huge man who seemed somehow or other to proclaim himself of a bigger and stronger type than those others amongst whom he moved. He had black eyes and a heavy jaw of an Irishman. His face was curiously unwrinkled. He stood there, blocking the way. His great hands suddenly thrust forward. "'Betty, by the Lord that loves us,' he exclaimed. "'Here's luck. I was on my way out to search for you. Got here on the Chicago Limited at four o'clock. Give me your hands and say that you are glad to see me.' If Elizabeth were glad she showed no sign of it. She seemed to have become rooted to the spot, suddenly dumb. Philip, by her side, heard the quick in-drawing of her breath. "'Silvanus,' she murmured. "'You? Why? I thought you were in China. There's no place on God's earth can hold me for long,' was the boisterous reply. I did my business there in three days and caught a Japanese boat back. Such a voyage and such food. But New York will make up for that. You've got a great play, they tell me. I must hear all about it. Shake my hands first, though. Girl, as though you were glad to see me, you seemed to have shrunken since I saw you last, to have grown smaller. Didn't London agree with you?' The moment of shock had passed. Elizabeth had recovered herself. She gave the newcomer her hands quite frankly. She even seemed, in a measure, glad to see him. "'These unannounced comings and goings of yours from the ends of the earth are so upsetting to your friends,' she declared. "'And this gentleman? Who is he?' He laughed softly. "'I needn't tell you, Mr. Ware,' she said, turning to Philip. "'But this dear man, here, is an eccentric. I dare say you've heard of him. It is Mr. Sylvanus Power and Sylvanus, this is Mr. Merton Ware, the author of our play, The House of Shams.' Philip felt his hand held in a grasp, which, firm though it was, seemed to owe its vigor to him. Mr. Sylvanus Power was studying him from behind his bushy eyebrows. So your Merton Ware, he observed. "'I haven't seen your play yet. Hope to, tonight. An Englishman, eh?' "'Yes, I am English,' Philip ascended coolly. "'You come from the west, don't you?' There was a moment's silence. Elizabeth laughed softly. "'Oh, there's no mistake about Mr. Power,' she declared. He brings the breezy west with him to Wall Street or Broadway, Paris or London. You can't shake it off or blow it away. "'And I don't know as I am, particularly anxious to, either,' Mr. Power pronounced. "'Are you going to your rooms here, Betty? If so, I'll come along. I guess Mr. Ware will excuse you.' Philip was instantly conscious of the antagonism in the other's manner. As yet, however, he felt little more than amusement. He glanced towards Elizabeth and his face startled him. The colour had once more left her cheeks and her eyes were full of appeal. "'If you wouldn't mind,' she begged, Mr. Power is a very old friend and we haven't met for so long. "'You needn't expect to see anything more of Miss Doulston tonight, either of you,' the newcomer declared, drawing her hand through his arm, except on the stage, that is. I am going to take her out and give her a little dinner directly. Or of why, I think. Philip stood for a moment motionless. The voice of Mr. Salvalo's power was no small thing, and he was conscious that several of the officials of the place and the man in the box-office had heard every word that he had passed. He felt, somehow, curiously ignored. He watched the huge figure of the Westerner, with Elizabeth by his side, disappear down the corridor. Mr. Fink, who had also been looking after them, turned towards him. "'Say, that some man, Salvalo's power,' he exclaimed admiringly, "'is one of our multi-millionaires, Mr. Ware. What do you think of him?' "'So far as one can judge from a few seconds' conversation,' Philip remarked, "'he seems to possess all the qualities essential to the production of a multi-millionaire in this country,' Mr. Fink grinned. "'Sounds a trifle sarcastic. I guess he's a new type to you,' he observed tolerantly. "'Absolutely,' Philip acknowledged as he turned and made his way slowly out of the theatre. End of Book 3, Chapter 5 Philip's disposition had been so curiously affected by the emotions of the last few months, that he was not in the least surprised to find himself that evening torn by a very curious and unfamiliar spasm of jealousy. After an hour or so of indecision, he made his way as usual to the theatre. But instead of going at once to Elizabeth's room, he slipped in at the back of the stalls. The house was crowded and, seated in the stage box alone and gloomy, his somewhat austere demeanor intensified by the severity of his evening clothes set Sylvanus power with the air of a conqueror. Philip, unaccountably restless, left his seat in a very few minutes and, making his way to the box office, scribbled a line to Elizabeth. The official to whom he handed it looked at him in surprise. "'Won't you go around yourself, Mr. Ware?' he suggested. "'Miss Dalston has another ten minutes before she is on.' Philip shook his head. "'I'm looking for a man I know,' he replied evasively. "'I'll be somewhere about here in five minutes.' The answer came in less than that time. It was just a scrawled line and pencil. "'Forgive me, dear, I will explain everything in the morning. If you will come to my rooms at eleven o'clock. This evening I have a hateful duty to perform and I cannot see you.' Philip, impatient of the atmosphere of the theatre, wandered out into the streets with a note in his pocket. Broadway was thronged with people, a heterogeneous, slowly moving throng, the hardest crowd to apprehend, to understand, of any in the world. He looked absently into the varying stream of faces, stared at the whirling sky signs, the lights flashing from the tall buildings, heard snatches of the music from the open doors of the cafes and restaurants. Men and even women elbowed him, unresenting out of the way, without the semblance of an apology. It seemed to him that his presence there, part of the drifting pandemonium of the pavement, was in a sense typical of his own existence in New York. He had given so much of his life into another's hands and now the anchor was dragging. He was suddenly confronted with the possibility of a rift in his relations with Elizabeth, with a sudden, surging doubt, not of Elizabeth herself, but simply a feeling of insecurity with regard to their future. He only realized in those moments how much he had leaned upon her, how completely she seemed to have extended over him and his troubled life some sort of sheltering influence to which he had succumbed with an effortless and almost fatalistic impulse, finding there at any rate a refuge for the horrors of his empty days. It was all abstract and impersonal at first, this jealousy which had come so suddenly to disturb the serenity of an almost too perfect day, but as the hours passed, it seemed to him that his thoughts dwelt more often upon the direct cause of his brief separation from Elizabeth. He turned in at one of the clubs of which he had been made a member and threw himself gloomily into an easy chair. His thoughts had turned towards him masterful personality of the man who seemed to have obtruded himself upon their lives. What did it mean when Elizabeth told him she was engaged for tonight? She was supping with him somewhere, probably at that moment seated opposite to him at a small, rose-shaded table in one of the many restaurants of the city which they had visited together. He, Sylvanus Power, his supplanter, was occupying the place that belonged to him. Ordering her supper, humoring her little preferences, perhaps sharing with her that little glow of relief which comes with the hour of rest after the strain of the day's work. The suggestion was intolerable. Tomorrow he would have an explanation. Elizabeth belonged to him. The sooner the world knew it, the better. And this man, first of all, he read her few lines again hastily penciled and evidently written standing up. There was a certain ignominy in being sent about his business just because this colossus from the West had appeared and claimed what? Not his right. He could have no right. What then? Philip ordered a drink, tore open an evening paper and tried to read. The letters danced before his eyes. The whiskey and soda stood neglected at his elbow. Afterward he found himself looking into space. There was something cynical, challenging almost, in the manner in which that man had taken Elizabeth away from him. Had acknowledged his introduction even had treated the author of a play a writer as some sort of a mount bank making his living by catering for the amusements of the world. How did that man regard such gifts as his he wondered? Sylvanas' power, of whom he had seen it written that he was one of the conquerors of nature. A hard but splendid utilitarian the builder of railways in China and bridges for the transit of his metals amid the clouds of the mountaintops. In the man's absence his harshness almost uncouthness seemed modified. He was a rival without a doubt and tonight a favored one. How well had he known Elizabeth for how long? Was it true that rumor he had once heard that the first step in her fortunes had been due to the caprice of a millionaire? He found the room stifling but the thought of the streets outside he looked about for some distraction. The room was beginning to fill actors, musicians, a few journalists a great many men of note in the world of Bohemia kept streaming in. One or two of them nodded to him several paws to speak. Hello where? Noel Bridges exclaimed. Not often you give us a look in what are you doing with yourself here all alone? Philip turned to answer him and suddenly felt the fire blaze up again. He saw his questioners frown saw him even bite his lip as though conscious of having said a tackless thing. The actor probably understood the whole situation well enough. I generally go to the lotus Philip lied. Tonight I had a fancy to come here. The lotus is too far up town for us fellows Bridges remarked. We need a drink, little supper and to see our pals quickly when the night's work is over. I hear great things of the new play but I don't know when you'll get a chance to produce it. Were you in the house tonight? Only for a moment. Going stronger than ever Bridges continued impressively. Yes thanks I'll have a scotch highball he added in response to Philip's mute invitation. Plenty of eyes Mick. There wasn't a seat to be had on the house and I wouldn't like to say what old Fink had to go through before he could get his box for the great Sylvanus. His box Philip said, you know, Sylvanus power you know Bridges explained. He built it five years ago. For a speculation the actor fidgeted for a moment with his tumbler. No for Miss Dahlsten he replied. Philip set his teeth hard. The temptation to pursue the conversation was almost overpowering. The young man himself though a trifle embarrassed seemed perfectly willing to talk. At least it was better to know the truth. Then another impulse suddenly asserted himself. Whatever he was to know he must learn from her lips and from hers only. Well I should think it turned out alright he remarked. Noel Bridges shrugged his shoulders. The rent if it were figured out at a fair interest on the capital would be something fabulous he declared. You see the place was extravagantly built without any regard to cost. The dressing rooms as you may have noticed are wonderful and all the appointments are unique. I don't fancy the old man's ever orders rent yet that's paid him 1% on the money. See a litter perhaps Mr. Ware the young man concluded setting down his tumbler I'm going in to have a grill why don't you come along. Philip hesitated for a second and then somewhat to the other surprise assented. He was conscious that he had been perhaps just a little unresponsive to the many courtesies which had been offered him here and at the other kindred clubs. They had been ready to receive him with open arms in the vicinity of brain workers and his response had been perhaps a little doubtful not from any lack of appreciation but partly from that curious diffidence so hard to understand but so fundamentally English and partly because of that queer sense of being an imposter which sometimes swept over him a sense that he was after all only the ghost of another man living a subjective life that reasoned out however he might there was something of the fraud in any way that he could adopt and yet deep down in his heart he was conscious of so earnest a desire to be really one of them this good nature good hearted gay spirited little throng with their delightful intimacies their keen interest in each other's welfare their potent almost mysterious geniality which seemed to draw the stranger of kindred taste so closely under its influence. Philip as he sat at the long table with a dozen or so other men did his best that night to break through the fetters tried hard to remember that his place amongst them after all was honest enough they were writers and actors and journalists well he too was a writer he had written a play which they had welcomed with open arms as they had done him in this world of bohemia if anywhere he surely had a right to lift up his head and breathe and he would too he sat with them smoking and talking until the little company began to thin out establishing all the time a new reputation doing a great deal to dissipate that little sense of disappointment which his former non-responsiveness had created he's a damn good fellow after all one of them declared is at last he left the room he is losing his Britishness every day he stays here been through rough times they say another remark he is one of those an elder member pronounced taking his pipe for a moment from his mouth who was never made for happiness you can always man you can see it behind their eyes nevertheless Philip walked home a saner and a better man he felt somehow warmed by those few hours of companionship the senseless part of his jealousy was gone his trust for Elizabeth re-established he looked at the note once more as he undressed at eleven o'clock in the following morning in her rooms end of book three chapter six book three chapter seven of the cinema murder this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Mary Rodie the cinema murder by E. Phillips Oppenheim book three chapter seven something of his overnight optimism remained with Philip when at eleven o'clock on the following morning he was ushered into Elizabeth's rooms it was a frame of mind however which did not long survive his reception from the moment of his arrival he seemed to detect a different atmosphere in his surroundings the demeanor of Phoebe his staunch ally who admitted him without her usual welcoming smile the unanalyzable sense of something wanting in the dainty little room overfilled with strong smelling hot house flowers in the entrance and welcome of Elizabeth herself his eyes had ached for the sight of her he was so sure that he would know everything the moment she spoke yet her coming brought only confusion to his senses she was different unexpectedly bewilderingly different she had lost that delicate serenity of manner that almost protective affection which he had grown to lean upon and expect she entered dressed for the street smoking a cigarette which was in itself unusual with dark rings under her eyes which seemed to be looking all round the room on some pretext or other but never at him am I late she asked a little breathlessly I am so sorry tell me have you anything particular to do? nothing he answered I want to go out of the city into the country at once she told him feverishly the car is waiting I ordered it for a quarter to eleven let us start of course if you wish it he assented he opened the door but before she passed through towards her she shook her head his heart sank what could there be more ominous than this? I am not well she muttered don't take any notice of anything I say or do for a little time I am like this sometimes temperamental I suppose all great actresses are temperamental I suppose I am a great actress do you think I am Phillip he was following her downstairs now he found it hard however to imitate the flippancy of her tone the critics insist upon it he observed dryly evidently your audience last night shared their opinion she nodded I love them to applaud like that and yet audiences don't really know do they perhaps she relapsed into silence and they took their places in the car she settled herself down with a little sigh of content and drew the rug over her as far as you can go John she told the man but you must get back at six o'clock the country mind not the shore they started off so you were there last night she murmured leaning back amongst the cushions with an air of relief for a few moments I wrote my note to you in the box office she shook the memory away and afterwards I went to one of the clubs downtown what did you do there she inquired gossip some of the men were very kind to me he said I had supper with Noel Bridges amongst others well she asked almost defiantly I don't understand I looked intently at him for a moment I forgot she went on you are very chivalrous aren't you you wouldn't ask questions see I am going to close my eyes it is too horrible here and all through Brooklyn when we are in the lanes I can talk this is just one of those days I wish that we were in England all our country is either suburban or too wild and restless are you content with silence for a little time of course he assured her besides you forget that I am in a strange country everything is worth watching they passed over Brooklyn bridge and for an hour or more they made slow progress through the wide flung and byrnes of the city at last however the endless succession of factories and small tenement dwellings passed houses with real gardens through stretches of wood whose leaves were opening whose branches were filled with the sweet smelling sap of springtime Elizabeth seemed to wake almost automatically from a kind of stupor she pushed back her veil and Phillip stealing eager glasses towards her was almost startled by some indefinable change her face seemed more delicate almost the face of an invalid and she lay back there with half closed eyes the strength of her mouth seemed to have dissolved and its sweetness had become almost pathetic there were signs of a great weariness about her the fingers which reached out for the little speaking tube seemed to have become thinner take the turn to the left John she instructed the one to Bayshore take and stop when I tell you they left the main road and traveled for some distance along a lane which with its bramble-grown fences and meadows beyond was curiously reminiscent of England they passed a country house built of the wood which was still a little unfamiliar to Phillip but wonderfully home-like with its cluster of outbuildings its trim lawns and the little entrance then through the leaves of an avenue of elms they caught occasional glimpses of the blue waters of the lake which they presently skirted Elizabeth's eyes traveled over its placid surface idly yet with a sense of passive satisfaction in a few minutes they passed into the heart of a little wood and she leaned forward stop here close to the lawn stop your engine please and go and sit by the lake the man abated once with the unquestioning readiness of one used to his mistress swims for several minutes she remained silent she had the air of one drinking in with almost passionate eagerness the sedative effect of the stillness the soft spring air the musical country sounds of the trees the humming of insects the soft splash of the lake against the stony shore Phillip himself was awakened into a peculiar sense of pleasure by this almost his first glimpse of the country since his arrival in New York a host of half-forgotten sensations warmed his heart he felt suddenly intensely sympathetic than he had ever felt before towards the woman by his side whose hour of suffering it was his hand slipped under the rug and held her fingers which clutched his an instantaneous response her lips seemed unlocked by his slight action I came here alone two years ago she told him and since then often sometimes to study a difficult part sometimes only to think one moment she released her fingers from his drew out the hatpins from her hat unwound the veil and threw them both onto the opposite seat then she laid her hands upon her forehead as though to cool it the little breeze from the lake rippled through her hair bringing them every now and then faint whiffs of perfume from the bordering gardens there she exclaimed with a little murmur of content that's a man's action isn't it now I think I'm getting brave I have something to say to you Philip he felt her fingers seeking his again and held them tightly it was curious how in that moment of crisis his thoughts seemed to wander away he was watching the little flecks of gold in her hair wondering if he had ever appreciated the beautiful curve of her neck even her voice seemed somehow attuned to the melody of their surroundings the confused song of the birds the sighing of the lake the passing of the west wind through the trees and shrubs around Philip she began clinging closely to him I have brought you here to tell you a story which perhaps you will think when you have heard it might better have been told in my dressing room well I couldn't besides I wanted to get away it is about Sylvanas power he sat a little more upright his nerves were tingling now with eagerness yes I met him she continued eight years ago out west when I was in a traveling show I accepted his attentions at first carelessly enough I did not realize the sort of man he was he was a great personage even in those days and I suppose my head was a little turned then he began to follow us everywhere there was a scandal of course in the end I left the company and came to New York he went to China where he has always had large interests when I heard that he had failed I remember reading it in the paper I could have sobbed with joy Philip moved a little uneasily in his place some instinct told him however how greatly she desired his silence that she wanted to tell her story her own way then followed three miserable years during which I saw little of him I knew that I had talent I was always sure of making but I got no further it didn't seem possible to get any further nothing that I could do or say seemed to procure for me an engagement in New York think of me for a moment now Philip as a woman absolutely and entirely devoted to her work I loved it it absorbed all my thoughts it was just the one thing in life I cared anything about I simply liked to get at New York and I couldn't all the time I had to play on tour and you won't quite understand this dear but there is nothing so wearing in life as for anyone with my cravings for recognition there to be always playing on the road she passed for a few minutes there was a loud twittering of birds a rabbit who had stolen carefully through the undergrowth freed away a car had come through the wood and swept past them bringing with it some vague sense of disturbance it was some little time before she settled down again to her story at the end of those three years she went on Sylvanas power had become richer stronger more masterful than ever I was beginning to lose heart he was clever he knew quite well that with me there was only one way and he laid his schemes with regard to me just in the same fashion as he scheme to be a conqueror of men to build up those millions we were playing near New York and one day he asked me to motor in there and lunch with him I accepted it was in the springtime almost on such a day as this we motored up in one of his wonderful cars we lunched I remember how shabby I felt at the best restaurant in New York where I was weighted upon like a queen somehow or other the man had always the knack of making himself felt wherever he went he strode the very streets of New York like one of its masters and the people seemed to recognize it afterwards he took me into Broadway and he ordered the car to stop outside the theater where I am now playing I looked at it and I remember I gave a little cry of interest this is the new theater that everyone is talking about isn't it I asked him eagerly it is he answered would you like to see inside of course I was half crazy with curiosity I flew open before him and he took me everywhere you know yourself what a magnificent place it is that marvelous stage the auditorium all in dark green satin the seats like armchairs the dressing rooms like boudoirs the wonderful spaciousness of it it took my breath away I had never imagined such splendor when we had finished looking over the whole building I clutched his arm I can't believe that it isn't some sort of fairy palace I exclaimed and to think that no one knows who owns the place or when it is going to be opened I'll tell you all about that he answered I built it I own it and it will be open just when it it all seemed too amazing for a time I couldn't speak coherently then I remember thinking that whatever happened whatever price I had to pay I must stand upon the stage of that theater and win my lips were quite dry his great voice seemed to have faded into a whisper your offer I repeated myself he answered gruffly there was a silence which seemed to fill up interminable all the magic of the place had passed away its music seemed no longer to be singing happiness into his heart then at last he realized that she was waiting for him to speak he wanted to marry you he faltered he had a wife already splash John was throwing stones into the lake a pastime of which he was getting a little tired a huge thrush was thinking about commencing to build his nest and in the meantime sat upon a fallen log across the way and sang about it a little tree-climbing bird ran round and round the trunk of the nearest Elm staring at them every time he appeared with his tiny black eyes a squirrel almost overhead who had long since come to the conclusion that they were harmless decided now that they had the queerest manners of any two young people he had ever watched from his leafy throne and finally abandoned his position Elizabeth had been staring down the road ever since the last words had passed her lips she turned at last and looked at her companion he was once more the refugee the half-starved man flying from hers greater even than he had known she began to tremble Philip she cried say anything but speak to me like a flash he seemed to pass from his own almost the hermit's way of looking out upon life from the old-fashioned standpoint of his inherent puritanism into a closer sympathy with those others the men and women of the world in which he had so lately entered the men and women who had welcomed him so warm heartedly human beings all of them who lived and loved with glad hearts and much kindness the contrast was absurd the story itself suddenly so reasonable another woman on tour would have kept Sylvanas power waiting for three years only Elizabeth could have done that it was such a human little problem people didn't live in the clouds he wasn't fit for the clouds himself nevertheless when he tried to speak his throat was hard and dry and at the second attempt he began instead to laugh she gripped his arm Philip, she exclaimed be reasonable say what you like but look and behave like a human being don't make that noise she almost shrieked he stopped at once forgive me he begged humbly I can't help it I seem to be playing hide and seek with myself you haven't finished the story yet if there is anything more to tell me she drew herself up she spoke absolutely without faltering I accepted Sylvanas power's terms, she went on he placed large sums of money in Fink's hands to run the theatre there was a wonderful opening you were not interested then or you might have heard of it I produced a new play of Clyde Fitch's it was a great triumph Sylvanas was packed Sylvanas power sat in his box it was to be his night through it all I fought like a woman in a nightmare I didn't know what it meant I knew hundreds of women who had done in a small way what I was prepared to do magnificently in all my acquaintance I think that I scarcely knew one who would have refused to do what I was doing and all the time I was in a state of fierce revolt I had moments when my life's ambitions when New York itself the mecca of my dreams and that marvelous theatre with its marble and silk seemed suddenly to dwindle to a miserable, contemptible little doll's house and then again I played and I felt my soul as I played and the old dreams swept over me and I said that it wasn't anything to do with personal vanity that made me crave for the big gifts of success that it was my art and that I must find myself in my art or die the blood was flowing in his veins again she was coming back to him he was ashamed he with his giant load of sin his voice trembled with tenderness go on he begged I think that the reason I played that night as though I were inspired was because of the great passionate craving at my heart for forgetfulness to shut out the memory of that man who sat almost gloomily alone in his box waiting and then after it was all over the wonder and the glory of it he appeared suddenly in my dressing room elbowing his way through excited journalists kicking bouquets of flowers from his path we stood for a moment face to face he came nearer I shrank away I was terrified he looked at me in cold surprise three minutes he exclaimed to say goodbye I'm off to China stick at it you've done well start but remember a New York audience once holding choose your place carefully trust think you're going away I almost shrieked he glanced at his watch leaned over and kissed me on the forehead I'll barely make that boat he muttered and rushed out Philip was breathless the strange untold passion of the whole thing was coming to him in waves a wonderful suggestion finish he cried impatiently finish that is the end she said I played for two years and a half with scarcely a pause then I came to Europe for a rest and traveled back with you on the elitania last night I saw Sylvanas power again for the first time don't speak the story is in two halves that is the first the second is just one question that will come before we reach home John she called the man approached promptly he was quite weary of throwing stones take us somewhere to lunch his mistress directed and get back to New York at six o'clock end of book three chapter seven book three chapter eight of the cinema murder this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org reading by Mary Rodie the cinema murder by E. Phillips Oppenheim book three chapter eight it was not until they were crossing Brooklyn Bridge on their way into the city that she asked him that question they crawled along one of an interminable tangled line of vehicles of all sorts and conditions the trains rattling overhead and endless dreams of earnest people passing along the footway below them the evening sunlight flashed upon the murky waters glittered from the windows of the tall buildings and shone a little mercilessly perliers of the great human hive the wind had turned cool and Elizabeth with a little shiver had drawn her furs around her neck all through the day during the luncheon in an unpretentious little inn and the leisurely homeward drive she had been once more entirely herself pleasant and sympathetic ignoring absolutely the intangible barrier which had grown up between them soon to be thrown down forever or to remain for all time we left our heroine she said at an interesting crisis in her career I am waiting to hear from you what would you have done in her place he answered her at once and he spoke from the lesser heights he was fiercely jealous it is not a reasonable question he declared I am not a woman I am just a man who has led an unusually narrow and cramped life until these last few months that is scarcely fair she objected you profess you have loved to love still I hope that in itself makes a man of anyone then you too have sinned you too are one of those who yielded to passion of a sort therefore your judgment ought to be the better worth having he winced as though he had been struck and looked at her with eyes momentarily wild he felt that the deliberate cruelty of her words was of intent an instinct of her brain defying for the moment her heart I don't know he faltered I won't answer your question I can't you see the love you speak of is my love for you you ask me to ignore that I who am clinging on to life by one rope you are like all men she sighed we do not blame you for it perhaps we love you the more but when a great crisis comes you think only of yourselves you disappoint me a little Philip I fancy that you might have thought a little of me something of Sylvanas power I haven't your sympathy for other people he declared hoarsely no she assented sympathy is the one thing a man lacks it isn't your fault Philip you are to be pitied for it and after all it is a woman's gift isn't it there followed then a silence which seemed interminable it was not until they were nearing the theatre that he suddenly spoke with the passion which startled her tell me he insisted last night I can't help asking I was in hell he told himself afterwards that there couldn't be any possible way of reconciling cruelty so cold-blooded with all that he knew of Elizabeth she behaved as though his question upon deaf ears the car had stopped before the entrance to the theatre she stepped out even before he could assist her hurried across the pavement and looked back at him for one moment only before she plunged into the dark passage she nodded and there was an utterly meaningless smile upon her lips goodbye she said do you mind telling John he needed then she disappeared he stood motionless upon the pavement a little dazed two or three people jostled against him a policeman glanced at him curiously a lady with very yellow hair winked in his face Philip pulled himself together and simultaneously felt a touch upon his elbow he glanced into the face of the girl who had accosted him and for a moment he scarcely recognized her wish you'd remember you're in New York and not one of your own sleepy old towns Miss Grimes remarked briskly you'll have a policeman say you're drunk in a minute if you stand there letting people shove you around he fell into step by her side and they walked slowly along Martha was plainly dressed but she was wearing new clothes new shoes and a new hat don't stare at me as though you never saw me out of a garret before she went on a little sharply your friend Miss Dalston is a lady who understands things when I arrived at the theater this morning I found that it was to be a permanent job all right and there was a little advance for me waiting in an envelope that fat old Mr. Fink began to cough and looked at my clothes so I got one in first this is for me to make myself look smart enough for your theater I suppose I said give me an hour off and I'll do it so he grinned and here I am done a good day's work too copying the parts of your play for a road company and answering letters what's wrong with you the very sound of her voice was a tonic he almost smiled as he answered her just a sort of hankering of the moon and a sudden fear lest I might not get it you're spoiled that's what's the matter with you she declared briskly it never occurred to me he said gloomily that life had been over kind oh cut it out she answered here you are not only said on your feet but absolutely held up there all the papers full of Merton Ware's brilliant play and Merton where the new dramatist with his social gifts such an acquisition to New York society why it isn't so very long ago after all that you hadn't a soul in New York to speak to I saw something in your face that night I thought you were hungry so you were only it wasn't for food it cheered you up even to talk with me and look at you today clubs and parties and my friends and there you were half dazed in Broadway be careful man you don't know what it is to be down and out you haven't been as near it as I have anyway or you'd lift your head up and be thankful Martha he began earnestly Miss Grimes she interrupted firmly don't let there be any mistake about that I hate familiarity Miss Grimes then he went on you talk about my friends quite right I should think I have been introduced to nearly a thousand people since the night my play was produced I have dined at a score of houses and many scores of restaurants the people are pleasant enough too but all the time it's Merton Ware the dramatist they are patting on the back they don't know anything about Merton Ware the man perhaps there are some of them would be glad to but you see it's too soon and they seem to live too quickly here to make friends I am almost as lonely as I was so far as regards ordinary companionship last night I felt the first little glow of real friendliness just the men down at the club you've put all your eggs into one basket she declared that's true enough he groaned and like all men selfish brutes she proceeded deliberately you expect everything fancy expecting everything from a woman like Miss Dalston why you aren't worthy of it you know perhaps not he admitted but you see Miss Grimes you buy up till now has it indeed she objected you think I've never had a young man eh perhaps you're right haven't found much time for that sort of rubbish anyway this is where I hop on a trolley car wait a moment he begged don't leave me yet you have nothing to do have you nothing particular she confessed look here he went on eagerly I feel like work I've got the second act of my new play in my mind come round with me and let me try dictating it I'll give you something to eat in my rooms it's for the theatre mind I never tried dictating I believe I could do it to you in your rooms she repeated a little doubtfully they won't talk scandal about us Miss Grimes he assured her to tell you the truth I want to be near a telephone in case she rings you up eh that's so I said something I ought not to have done I ought to have waited for her but it was something that had been tearing at me ever since last night and I couldn't bear it some blunderers you men Miss Grimes sighed well I'm with you he led her almost apologetically to the lift of the handsome building in which his new rooms were situated they were very pleasant bachelor rooms with black oak walls and green hangings prints upon the wall a serviceable writing table and a deep green carpet she looked around her and at the servant who had come forward at their entrance with a little sniff shall you be changing tonight sir he asked not tonight Philip answered quickly tell the waiter to send up a simple dinner for two I can't bother to order and two cocktails he added as an afterthought Martha stared after the disappearing manservant disparagingly some style she muttered a manservant eh don't know as I ever saw one before off the stage don't be silly it's the way one lives nowadays cheaper than ordinary hotels or rooms take off your coat she obeyed him depositing it carefully in a safe place then she strolled around the room finding pictures little to her taste and finally threw herself into an easy chair are we going to work before we eat she asked no afterwards he told her have a cigarette she held it between her fingers but declined to match I'll wait for the cocktails she decided now listen here Mr. Ware there's a word or two I'd like to say to you go ahead he invited listlessly you men she continued looking him squarely in the face think a lot too much of yourselves you think so much of yourselves that as often as not you've no time to think of other folk a month or so ago who were you you were hiding in a cheap tenement house scared out of your wits dressed pretty near as shabbily as I was with a detective on your track and with no idea what you were going to do for a living and now look at you who's done it all of course my play being successful he began she broke in at once you and your play who took your play who produced it at the New York Theatre and acted in it so that people couldn't listen without a sob in their throats and a tingling all over yours isn't the only play in the world I bet Miss Dallston has a box full of them probably chose yours because she knew that you were feeling pretty miserable because she'd got sorry for you coming over on the steamer because she had a great big heart and is always trying to do something for others she's made a man of you oh I know a bit about plays I know that with the royalties you're drawing you can well afford rooms like these and anything else you want but that isn't all she's done she's used you to her friends she's taken more notice of you than any man around she takes you out automobile driving she lets you spend all your spare time in her rooms she don't mind what people say you dine with her and take her home after the play you have more of her than any other person alive say what I want to ask is do you think you're properly grateful she's ever repay Miss Dalston he acknowledged a little sadly but look here no butts she interrupted you think I don't know anything perhaps I don't and perhaps I do I was standing in the door of the office when you two came in from your automobile drive this afternoon I saw her come away without wishing you good-bye then I saw her turn and nod looking just as usual I saw her face afterwards if I had had you my man as close to me then as you are now I'd have boxed your ears he moved uneasily in his chair there was no doubt about the girl's earnestness she was leaning a little forward and her brown eyes were filled with a hard accusing light there was a little spot of color even in her shallow cheeks she was unmistakably angry I'd like to know who you are and what you think yourself to make a woman look like that she wound up the waiter entered with the cocktails and began to lay the cloth for dinner Philip paced the room uneasily until he had gone look here my little friend he said when at last the door was closed there's a great deal of sound and sense in what you say I may be an egoist I dare say I am I've been through the proper training for it and I've started life again on a pretty one sided basis perhaps but have you ever been jealous me jealous she repeated scornfully what of I wonder there was a suspicious glitter in her eyes a queer little tremble in her tone his question however was merely perfunctory she represented little more to him at that moment than the incarnation of his own conscience very likely you haven't he went on you are too independent ever to care much for anyone well I've been half mad with jealousy since last night that is the truth of it there's another man wants her a man who built the theater for her she told me about him yesterday while we were out together don't you want her to be happy the girl asked bluntly of course I do then leave her alone to choose don't go about looking as though you had a knife in your heart if you find her turn for a moment to someone else you don't want her to choose you do you just because you are a weakling because her great kind heart can't bear the thought of making you miserable stand on your feet like a man and take your luck can I take off my hat I can't eat in this the waiter had entered with the dinner Merton opened the door of his room and paced up and down for a few moments thoughtfully when she reappeared she took the seat opposite Phillip seemingly rare but most becoming performance her mouth seemed at once to soften and even her eyes laughed at him here you ask me to dine she said because you are lonely and I do nothing but scold you never mind I was typewriting something of yours this morning I've forgotten the words but it was something about the discipline of affection that way if I didn't adore Miss Dahlsten and if you hadn't been kind to me I should never take the trouble to make myself disagreeable he smiled back at her readily falling in with her altered mood she seemed to have talked the ill humor out of her blood and during the service of the meal she told him of the comfort of her work the charm of the other girl in the room she was already discussing a plan to share an apartment when she came to speak however remotely of Miss Dahlsten her voice seemed instinctively to soften Phillip found himself wondering what had passed between the two women in those few moments when Elizabeth had left him and gone back to Martha's room by some strange miracle the strong, sweet understanding woman had simply taken possession of the friendless child the thought of her sat now in Martha's heart an obsession almost a worship perhaps that was why the sense of companionship between the two notwithstanding certain obvious disparities seemed to grow stronger every moment they drank their coffee and smoked cigarettes afterwards in lazy fashion suddenly Martha sprang up say, I came here to work she exclaimed and I brought you under false pretenses he confessed my brain's not working I can't dictate we'll try another evening you don't mind of course not she answered glancing at the clock I'll be going wait a little time longer he begged there was only one heavily shaded lamp burning on the table and through the little cloud of tobacco smoke she watched him his eyes were sometimes upon the timepiece sometimes on the telephone he seemed always although his attitude was one of repose to be listening waiting it was half past nine the middle of the second act they knew quite well the first half of an hour Elizabeth would be in her dressing room she could ring up if she wished the seconds ticked monotonously away Martha found herself too sharing that curiously intense desire to hear the ring of the telephone nothing happened a quarter to ten came and passed she rose to her feet I am going home right now, she announced he reached for his hat I'll come with you he suggested a little half heartedly you'll do nothing of the sort she objected or if you do I'll never come inside your rooms again understand that I don't want any of these society tricks see me home indeed I'd have you know that I'm better able to take care of myself in the streets of New York than you are so thank you for your dinner and just you sit down and listen for that telephone it will ring right presently and if it doesn't go to bed and say to yourself that whatever she decides is best she knows which way her happiness lies you don't and it's she who counts much more than you leave off thinking of yourself quite so much and shake hands with me please Mr. Ware he gripped her hand opened the door and watched her sail down towards the lift whistling to herself her hands in her coat pockets then he turned back into the room and locked himself in end of book three chapter eight book three chapter nine of the cinema murder this is a LibriVox recording are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Leanne Howlett the cinema murder by E. Phillips Oppenheim book three chapter nine the slow fever of inaction fretting in Phillips veins culminated soon after Martha's departure and a passionate desire for a movement of some sort the very silence of the room maddened him the unresponsive looking telephone the fire which had burned itself out the dropping even of the wind which at intervals during the evening had flung a rainstorm against the windowpane at midnight he could bear it no longer and sallied out into the streets again that curious desire for companionship was upon him a strange heritage for one who throughout the earlier stages of his life had been content with and it even sought a grim and unending solitude he boarded a surface car for the sake of sitting wedged in amongst a little crowd of people and he entered his club noting the number of hats and coats in the cloak room with a queer sense of satisfaction he no sooner made his appearance in the main room than he was greeted vociferously from half a dozen quarters he accepted every hospitality that was offered to him drinking cheerfully with new as well as old acquaintances presently Noel Bridges came up and gripped his shoulder come and have a grill with us where he begged there's Seymour and Richmond here from the Savage Club and a whole crowd of us hello Freddy he went on greeting the man with whom Phillip had been talking why don't you come and join us too we'll have a rubber of bridge afterwards that's great the other declared come on where we'll rag old Honeybrook into telling us some of his stories the little party gathered together at the end of the common table Phillip had already drunk much more than he was accustomed to but the only result appeared to be some slight slackening of the tension in which he had been living his eyes flashed and his tongue became more nimble he insisted upon ordering wine he had had no opportunity yet of repaying many courtesies they drank his health forced him into the place of honor by the side of Honeybrook veteran of the club and ate their meal to the accompaniment of ceaseless force of laughter chaff the popping of corks mock speeches fat and nudge of every sort Phillip felt somehow that his brain had never been clearer he not only held his own but he earned a reputation for a sense of humor previously denied to him and in the midst of it all the door opened and closed and a huge man dressed in plain dinner clothes still wearing his theater hat with a coat upon his arm and a stick in his hand the door instead for a moment gazing around him say that silverness power one of the young men at the table exclaimed looks a trifle grim doesn't he it's the old man right enough no old bridge is murmured wonder what he wants down here it isn't in his beat Honeybrook the great New York raconteur father of the club touched Phillip upon the shoulder hey presto he whispered we who think so much of ourselves have become pygmies upon the face of the earth their towers the representative of modern omnipotence those are the hands grim strong-looking hands aren't they that grip the levers of modern American life Rodin ought to do a statue of him as he stands there art and letters growing smaller as he grows larger we exist for him he builds theaters for our plays museums for our pictures seems to me he is looking for one of us no bridge is remarked some pose isn't it a younger member of the party exclaimed irreverently as he lifted his tankard all these things were a matter of seconds during which silverness power did indeed stand without moving looking closely about the room then his eye at last lit upon the end of the table where Phillip and his friends were seated he approached them without a word as he was ventured upon a greeting coming to join us Mr. Power he asked silverness power if he heard the question ignored it his eyes had rested upon Phillip he stood over the table now looming before them massive in his way awe-inspiring where he said I've been looking for you instinctively Phillip rose to his feet tall though he was he had to look up at the other man and his slender body seemed in comparison like a willow wand nevertheless the light in his eyes was illuminative there was no shrinking away he stood there with the air of one prepared to welcome to incite and provoke storm whatever might be brewing I have been to your rooms silverness power went on they knew nothing about you there they wouldn't Phillip replied I go where I choose and when I choose what do you want with me conversation in the room was almost suspended those in the immediate locality well acquainted with the gossip of the city held the key to the situation everyone for a moment however was spellbound they felt the coming storm but they were powerless I sought you out where silverness power continued his harsh voice ringing through the room to tell you what probably every other man here knows except you if you know what you're a fool and I'm here to tell you so have you been drinking Phillip asked calmly maybe I have silverness power answered but whiskey can't cloud my brain or stop my tongue you're looking at my little toy here he went on twirling in his right hand a heavy Malacca cane with a leaden top I killed a man with that once the weapon seems sufficient for the purpose Phillip answered indifferently any other man silverness power went on would have sat in the chair for that not I you don't know as much of me as you need to Merton where I'm no whippersnapper of a pen slinger earning a few paltry dollars by riding dog-girl for women in mount-a-banks to act I've hewn my way with my right arm in my brain from the streets to the palace they say that money talks by God if it does I ought to shout for I've more million dollars than there are men in this room nevertheless Phillip said growing calmer as he recognized the man's condition you are a very insufferable fellow there had been a little murmur throughout the room at the end of silverness power's last blatant speech but at Phillip's retort there was a hushed almost an odd silence Mr. Honeybrook rose to his feet sir he said turning to power to the best of my belief you are not a member of this club I am a member of any club in America I choose to enter the intruder declared as for you riding and acting pop and jays I could break the lot of you if I chose I came to see you where come out from your friends and talk to me Phillip pushed back his chair made his way deliberately round the head of the table brushing aside several arms outstretched to prevent his going silverness power stood in an open space between the tables swinging his cane with its ugly top in the middle of his hand he watched Phillip's approach and lowered his head a little like a bull about to charge if you have anything to say to me Phillip observed coolly I am here but I warn you that there is one subject which is never discussed within these walls if you transgress our unwritten rule I shall neither listen to what you have to say nor will you be allowed to remain here and what is that subject silverness power thundered no woman's name is mentioned here Phillip told him calmly several of the men had sprung to their feet it seemed from powers his attitude as though murder might be done Phillip however stood his ground almost contemptuously his frame tense and poised his fists clenched suddenly the strain passed the man whose face for a moment had been almost black with passion lowered his cane swayed a little upon his feet and recovered himself so you know what I've come here to talk about young man he demanded one can surmise Phillip replied if you think it worthwhile I will accompany you to my rooms or to yours Phillip in those few seconds made a reputation for himself which he never lost the little company of men looked at one another in mute acknowledgement of a courage he failed to appreciate I'll take you at your word silverness power decided grimly here boys he went on moving towards the table where Phillip had been seated give me a drink some rye whiskey I'm dry not a soul stirred even Noel Bridges remained motionless Hessleton the junior manager of the theater met the millionaire's eye and never flinched Mr. Honeybrook knocked the ash from his cigar and accepted the role of spokesman Mr. Power he said we are a hospitable company here and we are at all times glad to entertain our friends at the same time the privileges of the club are retained so far as possible for those who conform to a reasonable standard of good manners there was a sudden thumping of hands upon the table until the glasses rattled Power's face showed not a single sign of anger he was simply puzzled with something which he could not understand there was Bridges earning a salary at his theater to be thrown out into the streets or made a star of according to his whim Hessleton a family man drawing his salary and a good one too also from the theater men whose faces were familiar to him some of them he knew on newspapers in which he owned a controlling interest the power of which he had bragged was a real enough thing what had come to these men that they failed to recognize it to this slim young boy of an Englishman that he dared to defy him pretty queer crowd you boys he muttered Philip who'd been waiting by the door came a few steps back again Mr. Power he said I don't know much about you and you don't seem to know anything at all about us I'm only at present a member by courtesy of this club but it isn't often that anyone has reason to complain of lack of hospitality here if you take my advice you'll apologize to these gentlemen for your shockingly bad behavior when you came in tell them that you weren't quite yourself and I'll stand you a drink myself that goes Honeybrook assented gravely it's up to you sir Mr. Sylvanus Power felt that he had wandered into a cul-de-sac he had found his way into one of those branch avenues leading from the great road of his imperial success he was man enough to know when to turn back gentlemen he said I offer you my apologies I came here in a furious temper and a little drunk I retract all that I said I'll drink to your club if you'll allow me the privilege willing hands filled his tumbler and grateful ones forced to glass between Philip's fingers none of them really wanted Sylvanus Power for an enemy here's looking at you all the latter said luck he muttered glancing towards Philip they all drank as though it were a right Philip and Sylvanus Power set their glasses down almost at the same moment Philip turned towards the door I met your service now Mr. Power he announced good night you fellows there was a new ring of friendliness in the hearty response which came from every corner of the room good night wear so long old fellow there was a little delay in the cloak room while the attendants searched for Philip's hat which had been temporarily misplaced Honeybrook who had followed the two men out of the room fumbling for a moment in his locker and coming over to Philip dropped something into the latter's overcoat pocket rather like a scene in a melodrama isn't it where he whispered but I know a little about Sylvanus Power it's only a last resource mind end of book three number nine recording by Leanne Howlett