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Page 74
I watched the financier for several moments, but did not detect
anything from his manner except that he seemed to feel ill at
ease and awkward in make-up. I picked out Millard again and this
time found him talking with Enid Faye and Gordon. Immediately I
sensed a dramatic conflict, carefully suppressed, but having too
many of the outward indications to fool anyone. In fact, a child
would have observed that Lawrence Millard and the leading man
needed little urging to engage in a scuffle then and there.
Though Stella Lamar was dead, this was the heritage she had left.
Her touch had embittered two men beyond the point of
reconciliation--the husband who had been, and the husband who was
to be. Of the two, Millard had far the better control of himself,
however.
After a brief word or so Gordon left them. At once I could see
the relief in the expressions of both the others. Again I
wondered just what might be between these two. It was an easy
familiarity which might have been as casual as it seemed to be,
no more, or which might have been a mask for something far deeper
and more enduring, the schooled outer cloak of an inner perfect
understanding.
Werner was by far the busiest of those waiting in the stifling
heat beneath the glass roof. He was in evening dress, prepared to
take his own place before the camera, and in straight make-up, so
that he looked nothing like the slain millionaire, the part he
had played in the opening scenes. I saw that he was a master in
the art of make-up. I was sure that he was more nervous than
usual. It struck me that he needed the stimulus of the drug he
used, although later I knew that he must have felt, intuitively,
the coming of events which followed close upon the attempt to
photograph the action.
As more of the people hurried up from the offices and around from
the manuscript and other departments, very conscious of their
formal attire, and as the regular players changed and adjusted
the make-ups of these amateurs, the banquet took on the
proportions of a real affair.
The members of the cast were placed at the table in the
foreground. Enid, Gordon, Marilyn, and a fourth man were assigned
locations; after which Werner proceeded to fill the seats in the
rear. With the exception of Millard and Phelps, none of the
inexperienced people were allowed to face the camera. Manton,
whose features were familiar through published interviews in many
publicity campaigns, was placed to one side opposite Phelps.
Millard was given charge of a group containing a number of giddy
extra girls in somewhat diaphanous costume, and seemed to be in
his element.
The tables themselves were prepared with perfect taste. I could
see that real food was being used, in order to achieve a greater
degree of realism, for a caterer had set up a buffet some
distance out of the scene from which to serve the courses called
for in the script. Many of the dishes were being kept hot, the
steam curling from beneath the covers in appetizing wisps. The
wine, supposed to be champagne, was sparkling apple juice of the
best quality, and I don't doubt but that before the days of
prohibition Werner would have insisted upon the real fizz water.
In details such as these the director was showing no economy.
"All ready now?" Werner called, stepping back to a place at a
table which he had reserved for himself. "All set? Remember the
action of the script?"
Instantly the buzz of conversation died and everyone turned to
him.
"No, no, no!" he exclaimed in vexation. "Don't go dead on your
feet. This is a banquet. You are having a good time. It's not a
funeral! You were all in just the right state of mind before, and
you don't have to stop and gape to listen to me. Keep right on
talking and laughing. My voice will carry and you can hear
without getting out of your parts."
I turned to Kennedy, to see how the picture-making struck him. I
saw that he was watching the two girls at the forward table
closely and so I faced about to follow his glance. Marilyn's face
was red with anger, while Enid, calm and rather malicious, was
ignoring her to devote all attention to Gordon. The leading man,
bored and irritated, made no effort to conceal a heavy scowl. In
the momentary interval following Werner's instructions, Marilyn
lost all control of herself.
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