Footner - ALM02 The Death of a Celebrity

DEATH OF A CELEBRITY

Hulbert Footner

Miss GAIL GARRETT, accompanied by her elderly maid, Catherine, was on her way to dinner at Gavin Dordress. She was appearing in Robert Greenfields play. White Orchids, at the time, and the party had been arranged for Sunday night to suit her convenience. She had not the expression of one who is looking forward to a good time. In the seclusion of the car her beautiful face was tense and stormy. When the cab stopped, she saw several men with square boxes hanging around the apartment house door, and she hesitated before getting out. Press photographers? Who do you suppose tipped them off? Gavin wouldnt.

They always seem to know where youre going to be, Miss, said Catherine.

It was a small apartment house, one tenant to a floor, and there was nobody to open the door of the car. I dont see why Gavin lives in such a dump, grumbled Miss Garrett. He doesnt have to. Get out first and keep my skirt off the running-board.

Catherine obeyed. Miss Garrett settled the collar of her ermine coat more becomingly around her neck, and assumed the famous smile. When she had descended, Catherine closed the door of the car, and hung behind so that she would not spoil the pictures. All the photographers tried to crowd in front of the star simultaneously. Walk slowly, said one. Give us a chance. Another was crying: Look at me, Miss Garrett. Look at me!

She smiled, the bulbs flashed; they made way for her, and she entered the building. As the sober Catherine followed, one of the young men winked at her broadly. Hi, Toots! he said softly.

Catherine glared at him, and all the young men laughed.

The entrance door led directly into a small, square foyer with a single elevator. The operator was a sharp-featured young white man with an insinuating smile. As soon as he had closed the elevator door, he turned around, saying: Good-evening, Miss Garrett. Hope its not a liberty, but I seen you in your play on Thursday night. It was swell!

Gail smiled automatically. Thank you. He went on: If you would give me your autograph, Miss Garrett, I would value it above anything I own. From his pocket he produced a fountain pen and a little pad. I cant write with my gloves on.

Sure you can! Plenty good enough.

Didnt I give you my autograph before?

No, Miss, he said with an open-eyed candour that was a little overdone. Must have been one of the other boys.

Watch your car! said Catherine nervously.

Thats all right. She stops automatic at the top.

At that moment the car did stop. As the operator still stood offering her the pen and the pad, Gail took them and scribbled her name as the quickest way of getting rid of him. He had a nerve! muttered Catherine when the elevator door closed.

I am the servant of the public, murmured Gail plaintively.

The door of the apartment was opened, not by Gavins Hillman, but a man engaged for the evening.

From the foyer double glass doors led into a sunroom which was filled with growing plants and had a little fountain playing in the middle. It was the penthouse which had attracted Gavin to the otherwise undistinguished apartment house on Madison Avenue. He had leased it while the building was still going up, and had designed the big sunroom after his own ideas. One side of it, filled with glass, made an immense how jutting into the roof-garden. Gavin was in the sunroom now, mixing a cocktail at a portable bar. Gail waved her hand to him and turned aside in the corridor leading to the bedrooms. You neednt trouble to show me, she said to the servant. I know the way.

In the guest-room Catherine took her mistress cape, and handed her what she required from the little dressing-case the maid carried. Gail studied herself in the mirror with the anxiety of a beauty of forty-three. Her figure was still willowy, but after forty, blonde hair, no matter what you do to it, is apt to betray. She was wearing a virginal dress of white chiffon with puffs at the shoulders and a skirt shirred in tiers. The tense look in her eyes displeased her. Eye-drops, she said, and Catherine got out the bottle and the dropper.

How do I look? asked Gail when this operation was finished.

Lovely, Miss, said Catherine. White suits you so well!

Thats what you always say, grumbled Gail, whether I am wearing black or red or green.

Catherine primmed her lips a little. It was as if she had said: Then why ask?

You may go now, said Gail. Tell Martin I shant want him again to-night. Ill taxi home.

Is it safe? murmured Catherine.

If not, somebody will bring me.

When she entered the sunroom Gavin came to meet her. He was frankly forty-five and handsomer than he had ever been, the lines in his face were lines of distinction. Lovely! he murmured, picking up her hand and conveying it to his lips.

Gaits smile became tight. Only my hand? she said.

The servant is still in sight.

She looked over her shoulder. Hes gone now.

He pressed her lips lightly with his own.

A flicker of anger crossed Gails face. It wasnt always like that, she said.

I didnt want to rumple you, my dear.

Ah, dont make pretences! I can see through you perfectly!

Cigarette? he said, offering the box.

No! She immediately changed her mind, and helped herself. She turned away, and glancing in a mirror, tried to smooth her face out. You cant make me quarrel with you, she said.

Im not trying to. He was smiling broadly and that angered her afresh.

She struggled with it. How about the new play? Is it finished?

All but, he said. In another week.

Tell me about it.

My dear, he protested, you know I never talk about my work. Wasnt it Stevenson who said you must never show unfinished work to anybody?

Thats not what Stevenson said. He said never show unfinished work to women or fools.

Well, I never show it to anybody.

So you say. Mack Townley has announced that he is going to produce the play in January.

Thats the usual press stuff. Mack knows no more about the play than its title: The Changeling.

Do you mean to say he is willing to produce it sight unseen?

Well, after we have been working together for eighteen years thats not very strange . Cocktail?

No, thank you.

I have got to the age where I need it.

This talk of your growing old is all nonsense, said Gail angrily. It doesnt fool me.

Youre wrong, said Gavin, holding his glass up to the light. Its the cause of the misunderstanding between us. I am getting old.

She bit her lip. Well, never mind that Am I to have the leading part in the new play?

Ah, dont lets talk business, said Gavin cajolingly.

I insist on an answer! Thats why I came early. You never give me a chance to see you alone. I have to make my plans as well as Mack Townley.

There is no part in it worthy of you, said Gavin. Its a mans play.

There must be a woman in it, or it wouldnt be your play.

The only important womans part is that of a young girl.

Gail flung her cigarette violently on the floor. I thought so! I thought so! she cried. Why dont you say right out that Im too old to act in your plays!

Gail, for Gods sake! he remonstrated.

She looked more than her age now. The repulsion that she could see in his eyes made her worse. So this is what I get for having given you the best years of my life! For having devoted all my art to making you famous! You owe your fame to me! To me! Do you hear? Where would you have been if I had not breathed life into the silly puppets in your plays?

Gavins face hardened. You are a great actress, he said. I have never failed to acknowledge my debt to you . But just now you are making a show of yourself.

How dare you! she gasped. O God, that I should live to hear a man speak to me like that! I wont bear it! I wont!