PEGGY IN HOLLYWOOD

Wairarapa Times-Age, 13 March 1939, Page 10

PEGGY IN HOLLYWOOD

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

BY

MRS PATRICK MACGILL.

CHAPTER XV (Continued) “Then—what?” Peggy was suddenly filled with an immense dread. Always it was there . . . the white, still fac«« of a dead man on the deck of a ship. "You wouldn’t want me to be a rotten coward, Pegs . . to get out of things because of what might happen?” David’s voice was low, urgent, pleading. “You don’t have to worry about the capital charge—the worst that they can call it is manslaughter . . . and remember, dear, you are free; as free as you were before I came into your life.” Peggy’s denial was instant, passionate. “I don’t want to be free, David Whitley. I want to fee] that we belong truly belong—to each other. Darling, before you do anything—go anywhere, I mean —let me have the right to be beside you. Let us get married, dear.” David said no word, but his hand, thin and pale with the fight that he had w’aged against his illness, closed on Peggy’s and held 'it so tightly that his grip hurt; the pointed nails that adorned the small hand cut into the palms. But Peggy did not care. There was valour, 'truth, splendour in the face that David Whitley turned towards her.’ His voice reflected what was in his face when he spoke. “Peggy, lam not a murderer. I would not be afraid to meet God on a charge of murder. The man fell in fair fight. Always, to the end of my days, I shall feel the deep unhappiness of one who has taken a fellow creature’s life, but it was not an intentional taking, that I swear!” Every word, every syllable, carried conviction, and Peggy was conscious of a curious set of emotions all, at variance with each other, swarming within her. Pride in David’s fearlessness and wish to be judged; fear lest he be wrongly judged by those who had no knowledge of his fineness; but above and beyond all, was the sweetness of their love . . . Her arms went around him and she kissed him with upleaping fire, giving him the red freshness of her lips. “David, you haven’t done anything except tell me what I already knew; that you killed the man by accident. And I’m not going to beg you to remain silent about it, because all our lives it would.be between us, like a ■black cloud, ruining our happiest times. But I am asking you”—Peggy’s voice was exquisite with the lilt of love as she finished —“to let us get married so that we can share whatever the outcome has to be.” David looked up with eyes that worshipped the slim, passionately eager young figure bending over him. “Peggy, you are the spunkiest kid that ever drove a fellow crazy with love,” he told her softly, drawing her down into the circle of his arms and ounctuating every other word with a kiss. “But I’m not taking on any marriages, Mrs Future David Whitley, until I’ve got this nasty little snarl straightened out.” For what seemed hours to Peggy, a sea of silence flowed between them. Conquering the thwarting, smoky sense of suffocation that threatened to engulf her—it seemed as if she was of no real use at all in this crisis—Peggy asked, “You will need money for lawyers, and all that, dear?” “Yes—and I haven’t a cent,” confessed David, ruefully.

Peggy brightened. Back came the happy feeling of being vital to David in some other than merely a loving sense.

“I’ve got 5,000 dollars in the bank; auntie’s money. Mr Lewisohn stopped me from making a present of it to Opal Orth,” Peggy added, the name slipping out before she could stop herself. It was David’s turn to look s.o □mazed that his mouth remained open for a full half-minute, giving him a “little boy” look that made Peggy laugh, even while, deep down, she wanted badly to cry.

“Sending Opal 5,000 dollars? What in heaven’s name for?” David sat up, face flushed, eyes brilliant with interest.

Peggy had not meant to tell him about the incident in her apartment: the whole thing was so degrading, especially the hair-pulling part, that she felt the only decent thing to do was to forget it; certainly not to worry David about it. David, however, was insistent.

“And you’ve kept that bottled up all this lime, you good little Scout?” he exclaimed, his arm round Peggy’s shoulder, his fingers sinking softly into the flesh of her sleeveless arm as he spoke. Before she could answer he went on, in a deeply worried voice, “This chap, Lewisohn, seems a good old egg, Peggy. I rather think I’d like to have a chat with him. It was decent of him to save you from parting company with your money. I think a lot of him for coming to you late at night like that, too. I wonder ...” David broke off. “Yes, dear?”

Peggy felt that it might bo' worth while to follow David’s train -of thought. “I wonder if it might not be as well to have a chat with him before I got into touch with the Consul," said David thoughtfully. “I’ll telephone him from the drug store, in the next block and let. you know. It takes 50 minutes to get home by the street car." offered Peggy. “And what about money, darling? My 5,000 dollars will be useful, won’t it? I'll draw it out and bring it to you tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t you generous, foolhardy little peach!" laughed David, for Peggy’s apparent anxiety to get rid of her entire fortune would have had a comic side to it were it not for the fact that it was all she had in the. world.

“After I’ve fixed things with the police and I’ve chosen my lawyer, I’ll cable home. Father will either send money or come himself.” David's face grew white as he spoke, and his heart turned to water, as it always did at the mere thought of what it would mean . . . the receipt of the cable . . . in the quiet, humdrum minister’s household. "We’ll hold your 5,000 dollars in reserve, kitten, just in case if may be needed. So hang on to it,” said David, who rightly judged that this method of handling Peggy and her money was the most effective so far as

its safety was concerned. When she left David, Peggy went immediately to the drug stor in the next block to telephone Oscar Lewisohn. “Will I go to see David?’’ he asked, repeating Peggy's earnest request. “You just bet I will, honey,” came the hearty reassurance in the rough tones that Peggy had learned both to like and to trust. “You go on home, baby . . . and doi]’t forget to eat a nourishing supper now,” the kindly old Jew admonished Peggy, who smiled with a corner of her mouth for a split second. “I’ll get on to the hospital and make a date,” he promised Peggy, and she hurried for her street car, hugging the comforting thought to her breast that at any rate, the police were not going to lay hands-on David that night. The next morning the telephone shrilled just as Peggy was sitting down to her self-prepared breakfast of orange juice and toast. It was Lewisohn. His voice was strained with suppressed excitement and in some way it communicated itself to Peggy, “God morning, honey. Are you up yet?” “Goodness, yes. Ages since. I’m just having breakfast.” “Good. Hang up, baby. I’ll be right over.”

Peggy’s toast and orange juice lay on the table untouched. She paced the little apartment nervously, dreading, yet longing for Lewisohn to come. What tidings would he bring? Was he hastening at that hour of the morning —8.45—50 that he could be by her side when the news had to be broken that David had given himself up to the police? The moment that he entered the apartment, Peggy divined that all was well with David.

“Say, sweetheart, you look like a million dollars!” was Lewisohn’s greeting, as he came towards her with both hands outstretched.

Peggy had slept long and dreamessly through sheer fatigue, and the dewy freshness of her be’auty seemed part of the blue, sparkling California day. Lewisohn’s manner was sufficiently reassuring to set her fears at rest, and so mysterious as to arouse her healthy curiosity.

“Did you see David? How is he? Were you able to help him, Mr. Lewisohn?” The questions tumbled out eagerly, breathlessly, without pause for reply. ‘ Oscar Lewisohn took Peggy by her two shoulders and gently forced her down into a corner of the divan, the same corner wherein Opal Orth had sat. He,seated himself in the other corner. For a few seconds the dark, shrewd eyes darted side glances at the anxious young face. “Yep, I saw him, talked with him till the doctor—swell guy that Irishmanbooted me out. And can 1 help him? Well, I’ll say I can —and then some. But you’ve got to help me, honey; a whole sight. And I don’t mean maybe.” Oscar Lewisohn bent a look upon Peggy as if he might be measuring her possibilities, considering her capacity. His tone, when he spoke, was crisp.,, authoritative. . . “Peggy, do you trust me?” he asked simply, but in’’the meeting of eye to eye was a momentary baring of the very soul of Oscar Lewisohn, and Peggy experipnced one of those rare flashes of insight which compel respect and bind in friendship for ever the man or woman inspiring it. She held out her hand and, bending over, Lewisohn took it and pressed it in both his own. Not a word was spoken, but there was small need for words in that moment. , . ~ “Peggy, if you want to help David, your best plan- is to say goodbye to him. . , The words fell like little lumps of ice on Peggy’s heart. “You mean—the police?” Peggy s lips were ashen, and her tongue felt like a strip of leather in her mouth, but the words spoke themselves, somehow. Oscar Lewisohn looked hurt. “Now, is that nice?” he asked in the current jargon of the Tinsel' Kingdom. “You promised to trust me and then imagine I’d do a dirty trick like that. “Oh, Mr Lewisohn, don’t take it that way,” begged Peggy, her dark eyes shining once more. “It’s only ... its only that David hasn’t any money and won’t lake any of mine . . . and he s still so sick. . “All that might have been so yesterday, honey, but not today,” Lewisohn «aid, comfortingly. He went on unhurriedly, as if the idea at the back of his mind was, at all costs, not to lose the ground that he had gained with Peggy. °We talked the matter over and agreed that the best thing was for him to stay at the ’Haven of Rest for a good long spell, in fact, until I give him leave to shift.” The sentence finished with a'laugh. , “B-but the money! stammeied Peggy. “That’s all O.K. David sure must be a good boy at home. His father cabled five hundred dollars soon as he knew he was in hospital and his godmother, Jane, doubled it. So all David has to do is to sit pretty and do as his Uncle Oscar tells him, and you, too, honey, Lewisohn finished with a broad wink. “Well. Mr Lewisohn, though you ve told me nothing except that David’s people have sent him some money, I feel a whole lot better.” said Peggy, looking as if she meant it. “Attagirl! Now put on your hat and don't turn on the waterworks when I tell you what you’ve got to do to help me to help David. ’ Peggy's eagerness to do as she was told could not have been surpassed directly she learned that Oscar Lewishon's commands concerned Davids welfare. . “Tell me, and whatever it is. 11l do it.” she promised. “Say good-bye to David and then say the same to that painted fool. Opal Orth. Tell her you are going back to England and let her see you off on the train. I’ll be there, too, only you won’t see me. While you are say’ina good-bye to David and Miss Orth. I’ll eo get your ticket. How much packing you"got to do, and when could you check out of this dump?" casting an uncomplimentary glance around the plain little apartment that had been chosen especially for its simplicity. (To be Continued).