From The rise of Minna Nordstorm (A Mulliner story) *** Until now he had never studied Vera Prebbles appearance to any great extent or thought about her much in any way. When she had entered his employment a few days before, he had noticed, of course, that she had a sort of ethereal beauty; but then every girl you see in Hollywood has either ethereal beauty or roguish gaminerie or a dark, slumberous face that hints at hidden passion. Put it down there on the small table, said Mr Schnellenhamer, passing his tongue over his lips. The girl did so. Then, straightening herself, she suddenly threw her head back and clutched the sides of it in an ecstasy of hopeless anguish. Oh! Oh! Oh! she cried. Eh? said Mr Schnellenhamer. Ah! Ah! Ah! I dont get you at all, said Mr Schnellenhamer. She gazed at him with wide, despairing eyes. If you knew how sick and tired I am of it all! Tired ... Tired ... Tired. The lights ... the glitter ... the gaiety... It is so hollow, so fruitless. I want to get away from it all, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Mr Schnellenhamer retreated behind the Chesterfield. That laugh had had an unbalanced ring. He had not liked it. He was about to continue his backward progress in the direction of the door, when the girl, who had closed her eyes and was rocking to and fro as if suffering from some internal pain, became calmer. Just a little thing I knocked together with a view to showing myself in a dramatic role, she said. Watch! Im going to register. She smiled. Joy. She closed her mouth. Grief She wiggled her ears. Horror. She raised her eyebrows. Hate. Then, taking a parcel from the tray: Here, she said, if you would care to glance at them, are a few stills of myself. This shows my face in repose. I call it Reverie. This is me in a bathing suit ... riding ... walking ... happy among my books ... being kind to the dog. Here is one of which my friends have been good enough to speak in terms of praise – as Cleopatra, the warrior-queen of Egypt, at the Pasadena Gas-Fitters Ball. It brings out what is generally considered my most effective feature – the nose, seen sideways. During the course of these remarks Mr Schnellenhamer had been standing breathing heavily. For a while the discovery that this parlourmaid, of whom he had just been thinking so benevolently, was simply another snake in the grass had rendered him incapable of speech. Now his aphasia left him. Get out! he said. Pardon? said the girl. Get out this minute. Youre fired. There was a silence. Vera Prebble closed her mouth, wiggled her ears, and raised her eyebrows. It was plain that she was grieved, horror-stricken, and in the grip of a growing hate. What, she demanded passionately at length, is the matter with all you movie magnates? Have you no hearts? Have you no compassion? No sympathy? No understanding? Do the ambitions of the struggling mean nothing to you? No, replied Mr Schnellenhamer in answer to all five questions.
Posted on: Mon, 26 Jan 2015 13:36:17 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015