The Winnipeg Tribune from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada • Page 38

THE WINNIPEG TRIBUNE MAGAZINE, SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 1931 ANY TWO YOU NAME By Stephen Morehouse Avery 2 Things THE young man turned abruptly and entered his hotel, on of the mote modest of a cluster of hotels. He had almost walked beyond it. His thoughts were eleewhere. He crossed the lobby a deliberately and incuriously ap If It had been deserted and got his key at the desk. The clerk said: "That's all, Mr.

Craig. There's no mall." Well, naturally not. The young man wa thinking of something else. It was nearly midnight and the elevator boy had all the morning paper. "Been reading about this papers.

The young man bought one ach. He got off at the fourth nth floor. It was the thirteenth, really. The hotel had skipped thirteen in the numbering because some people are superstitious about It. At ihe end of a long corridor he turned right towards No.

1419, pausing theie an instant with his key in the lock. Through the door opposite he heard the penetrating ticking of a typewriter, rapidly and nxpertly driven. That had gone on until one-thirty last night. He knew all about It because the chambermaid bad described verybody living at this end of the corridor. The fat man in the suite at the end, No.

,1417, gave big poker parties every Saturday afternoon and was very untidy. The chambermaid was human vnd lively, a curiously intellectual old soul who once In her native London had worked at Adelphi Terrace and claimed to have seen Bar- rie climbing down the fire escape to visit George Bernard Shaw. She disparaged Churchill and Stanley Baldwin and thought ah was a Boclalist But she referred to herself always aa Jackson. "That ole young lady who does the typing across In 1413 is sot looking so well. She Is an amanuensis for one of your great authors.

Tou can hear hi deep grumbling In there sometimes In the afternoon." The young man's room was Just aa he had left It ten hours before, bis flannel dressing gown still on the floor where he had dropped It That gave him a queer feeling of being alone. But he merely shrugged, slipped off his coat and waistcoat, picked up the dressing-gown. Then he stretched his considerable length on the bed and began to read the papers, everything. One paper with blunt vulgarity and a three-column head said: "Engineer-Sportsman Leaves Soulmate to Face Pollc Alone. Beautiful Stella Post Protect Lover With Silence.

George Post Near Death in Polyclinic" There waa a long sob-aleter account of Stellas ordeal and further imputation of cowardice to the Coventry. The young man threw down the paper. "Fool, per- tn hut Tint coward." he muttered. Last night he had dreamed he was Wtbb Coventry, running, dodging, pursued by a mob. He switched off the reading lamp and lay there in the dark with his eyes wide open.

The persistent clipplty-cllp-tap-Clip-tap of that typewriter pene trated to nis mino. again. i-HeA he had been listening to It all the while and he felt the ticking of it In his head, somewnere bdovb his eyes. Tbt young man swore and glanced at his luminous-faced watch. Twenty-five to two.

He reached for the phone to complain downstairs but changed his mind and ordered some chicken sandwiches and a glass of milk sent up. A11 right, go up to the corner and get them then." He took the tray a few minutes later at his door to prevent any knocking, waited a minute until the superciliously grinning night boy disappeared again around the turn of the corridor. Then he set the tray down carefully In front of No 1415 and knocked gently on the door. As quickly and as silently as poible he returned to his own loom and listened. The young man realized that the typewriting had ceased.

He heard the nice young lady's door open softly. There was a long pause and then a knock at his door. She stood there, holding the sandwiches and "I wnnld have known vou I did this even if I hadn't heard you. You see the chambermaid talks to me, too, and I know you are brown-headed and grey-eyed and that you sleep late in the morning and don't work. You are the sort who would feel sorry for a girl who has to type until two In the morning." "No, I Just did It, hoping I could make you stop for a few minutes." He was wondering whether or not she was pretty.

Her face was rather puie and her eyes so full of fatigue that could not tell what color they were, oniy that they were dark and deep. Sh had a trirk of l.fting her dark hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. There were liny blue veins at her temple. "Well, ynu can come over and share It with me if you wish. Don't put on your crat.

What difference coes it make?" He followed her. Tm not hiin-cry but I'il smoke a cigarette. You're the first person I've talked to in days." "Yes. you're lonely. I can see that Well, so am I and I'm tired.

I'm so tired that. He held the tray for her while ehe the type writer B-irte and tethered up sheets and sheets of iiiunuscript. he raid: "Nobody's book i that Important "No," she agreed. "But bread It. My employer pays fur this room Just to have me near Tihere he lives and convenient to take dictation whenever he wishes.

So, you see, you're wrong." "I didn't say anything." "But you looked it. and thought It. No matter though Her emile came quickly and then vanished. It was not exactly a face for smil ing. "Please have one of these I sandwicnes.

1 cant eat mem an. Tell me who you are and why you 1IB tUBliUg litis, Tm not loafing. I'm waiting for one of our vice-prefiidenta to arrive. Then we go to work on a building contract. My name is Craig.

What's yours?" He glanced about the somewhat bare room a few boolis, a picture of the girl very smartly dressed, as If to remind herself of b' tter days. There was a pile of newspapers, the green sheet of tabloid on top. "I'm Jeanne Gray. twenty-four, white, unmarried, lonely, nh un tired'" She 1 Looked Pretty Desperate Coventry and Post affair?" Who hasn't? What is there but the movits and the papers?" "When you are alone, you mean?" "Yes, that's what I mean. You'd better go back to your own room now.

I want to go to bed. Isn't It funny in an hotel floor like this. Just a few inches of plaster blocking us off into separate lives when we can almost hear one another breathe? But we can't hear one another think, can we?" He didn't say anything. Just sat there watching her. "I have nevw known a girl like you." She laughed.

That whs the first time he had heard her laugh. She said: "They are not like me. They pose, take at. nude, go through ail the silly motions. So do I when I am not too tired.

Will you go home now or She kicked off one of her shots. "Or Mi compromise you. I'm a dangerous woman." Then they Ix.th laughed. Thev laughed and talked for another half hour. He stubbed out a cigarette and told her good night At the door he said: "Breakfast is ai nine.

Miss Gray." "Yes, sir. Very good, sir. But nothing less than grapefruit oatmeal, boiled eggs and coffee at the grill. I warn you." He closed her door softly. He closed his own door softly.

His room seemed different, more pleasant A pleasant room and bath is about all a nan alone actually needs, She was quite refreshed andverv gay in the morning. She ate two four-minute egga in the grilL When she looked directly at him, he thought her eyes blue-black, like the spaces between stars, but when she looked away he remembered them as black-blue, like the last horizon. "Do you know what the chambermaid Jackson, you know said to me this morning, Mr. Craig? Well, Jackson said, 'I see you have changed your brand of cigarettes, Miss Gray, I see you now smoke the same kind as the gentleman across the And I detected distinct disapproval In Jackson's vofce." They walked crosstown. At a street intersection a small newsboy flagged them with a morning extra.

"George Post Reported Dying With Seoret. Refuses to Accuse Former Friend, Webb Coventry. Stella Post Grilled Again." The girl stopped and bought a copy. "I'm reading this life story of Stella Post by Anabel Rivera. What's the matter? Don't you approve of my reading such stuff?" Why, I hadn't even thought about It" "Well, you looked funny.

I Just thought it says they have a clue that Webb Coventry got away to South America. He's probably right here in town. They have no decent pictures. That the trouble." "Do you think Webb Coventry did It?" "Of course. Everybody knows he did K.

He waa In love with her. It was his pistol. And Pest admits it now. Besides, he was coward enough to run away and let her face It alone. So much for love In a pinch.

I must leave you here." They were at the entrance to an office building. "I'm looking up some things for my boss' next chapter." "Luncheon Is at one," he said. "At Dinard's." She pushed him away. "Oh, don't The Private Life (Continued From Last Saturday) Another thing Garbo liked to do was to throw a medicine ball, weighing fifteen pounds or more. She would romp all over the garden with It knocking down rose bushes and shrubs.

Then she would go to Gustaf and say: "Why can't we have flowers the Look at these poor ose bushes. What is the matter with She loved horseback riding. She her solitary dinner, when all overiwere working together on The picked out Bel-Air, tne most se- by insomnia, she would get up and "After that we never knew when eluded bridle path around Holly- gofor long walk, in the dead ofih- would bHng When not working, Garbo rode Gu9taf 8ayj these are un. dinner or have someone drop In to three and four times each -when Garbo could not sleep! lunch. never knew what time rh? Vtll fnn, "it" i she would read.

Of ten he would see he would eat Her dinner hour chose a time around four in afternoon, whan there few' i the world there were thousands of admirers longing to set the handiwork of the greatest chefs before her. Hollywood has heard many stories about the sleepless nights of Grela flnrhn Tt la finrhn nftpn railed her business manager at two and three o'clock in the morning, when, nervous and worn out from the lack of sleep, she felt she had to talk with someone or go insane. It hus also been said that when tortured o- aU wrA to swear I would disconnect the thing before I went to bed. Slgrid got so she would sleep right through it But ed aiwav waitlne (or it to nj alaf a always" reminding ni hr r.t th huH people on the tralU. No one recog- d)(1 Ue a jot at night" ana nlne 'clock-1 think she Invited nized the tall, slender girl in grey; said anyone gtaying In bed her guests at the last minute.

She riding breeches white silk oue, as mucn a3 Bh8 dld duri'ng the day i cevpr made Dlana ahead Un boots and beret, dark glassed tn ma ae 18n hadinir her eves th fum mm S0LUan expfct to leep all tnrougn "She always wanted Smorgasbord motion Dicture Vtar night. When Garbo wasn't swim-1 whrn Bne h'ld sU. So we saw "Usually I took her to the stables I mlnR cr she.that there was a constant supply i was usually lying down. I nlcklcd and snioed fish an In the car," said Gustaf. "Sometimes "When sh- didn't want to uleen CKiea ana spicea nsn, an he dmve harself In her hitr wnen sne UHln want to sieep assortment of Swedish cheese and sne arove nerseii, ntr nig seuan.she 8eerneu l0 tnlnk ona SB mUBhroora, and flsh iot She is not a good driver.

She wculd th, SnR and IlS" Vr go out of the garage so fast that .7 I to take off all the fenders." "Sorn after Greta Garbo moved' Into her house," said Gustaf Norln "Via had on nlAfist KaII lnatnllo.1 I "she had an electric bell Installed I from her bedroon Into the servant's ruum, wan a Duuon piaceo wnnin placed eaey reach of her bed. She mat dc.i ringing an noura or tne day and night. She always thought she was hearing burgiara." 10 lu on the one day a week that Gustaf and his wife Slgrid had off. Gustaf said she knew so little about rooking that he always felt guilty when he left Greta to get-a meal. She was like a child trying to prepare it "Khe wouldn't have known how to boll or bake potatoes," he said.

"So we would leave corked potatoes in a frying pan. On these I would put a note saying. 'Stir often when over the fire, or they will burn. uarbo never liked Trult salad. hut v.rv trn vthiM when we went out I usually left a vegetables "Sometimes she would fry herself a sieaK.

Bill generally we left keut'k at pi. i i. have some day because she con-i tlnually broke tnf head of a timmiii atatue on her dresser nad Chinese idols standing ahout her bedroom," he eaid. Heads, full-length figures, big ones nri IIHia nnea This nB drever was one of her favorite. I It WA.S a.

mart of ChinwKA nimlnnnii wlth nun-like veils draped over Ita head. I bPlieve It is called 'Kuan It was made of a marble composition that broke easily. "Garbo would come running Into the kitchen with tho two pieces in her hands, walling, 'Oh, Gustaf, Ii have broken her again. Lrn't it terrible?" She would stand there while I glued the head back on. "i- always knew when the little madonna had had a tumble.

There would be one long ring of the bell. i boVad a Into' her neck finally got tired of gluing her to- and stuck a small spike In the hole. inen 1 oorea another hole in her head and set the head on the spike. r. was maKing ner toilet before the umuo "cl "ome before she Invited friends In to see her.

"Nils Asther was one of her flmt callers eald Gustaf Noria. "They I For This Pair of Lovers "I'm Jeanne Gray 24, white, unmarried, lonely, weary-rm bo tired She dropped in her armchair. "No, thanks. I must work. His majesty will be In this afternoon." "All right, then; dinner is at seven-thirty." He went to the matinee alone.

It was all about a great man who had a chance to be happy. But the man just stayed great. late that night they walked slowly together down the cor ridor on the 14th floor. They turned the corner and came to their rooms. She put her key into the lock of her door and he took out his key.

Their hands touched the door knobs. She turned around. Just think how I'll have to slave tomorrow to make up for all this." He said: "Don't think of the loss. I wonder It you will understand when I tell you that this could have been the unhapplest day of my life. Instead, it has been the happiest.

She shock her head. "No, I wouldn't understand. Good night, Straneer." "Good night Strangest Strangest and Four nights later at about the same time. In about the same way, and yet In a different way, they walked down the 14th-floor corridor towards their rooms again. Her Sneers were laced Into his.

They had never talked about love, nor crossed each other's thresholds agiin. nor confided particularly. But there they were, her fingers. see Those were a usual four days In the world. France and Italy made some sort of naval compromise.

of Greta Single One night she brought him home to dinner. After that he often came over for lunch or dinner or coffee, late in the afternoon. "Then an English actor, John Loder, and his wife, started coming, Both spoke German. Garbo always prererred t0 gpeak German if she wa wlth "omeon who couldn speak Swedish. was anv i me oetween six-tninv omelettes on hand.

"Garbo was fond of homemade coffee cake, cookies and other cake. We kept plenty of these ready." John Loder, who who was often at me about his Garbo and the rr endsnip Dotween uarbo and rtMhl wife and himself. Garbo was Immediately attracted 'to John foreign wife, an Austrian Pr a inr-nasmp wnicn reiurnea iUTOpe. found." ald Loder, "that Garbo very fond of Emll Jan- an(1 hl wlfe and daughter, Iluth. Both my wife and I had known Emil in Europe.

latter we met Garbo at their home many times. "Not long after my arrival in Hollywood, a mutual friend of Jan- nlngs' and mine arrived from Europe. He was Jacques Feyder, who hnd done some fine work directing pictures In Europe. "We were all anxious to see him get a good break In Hollywood. He had written original story for tne screen, in tmu end Jacques both considered it an Ideal screen play for Garbo.

We felt sure that If she read "The Kiss" she wnnld wnt tn make iL wnen uroppea Garbo was soon chatting In Ger- man with Feyder about Europe After that It was easy for Mr. Jan- nln. tn tn tv tn to persuade her. to stay to I noWt laughed I riimiu. Ld a homemade 'very day.

I think her arm must I "9 Emll arranged to have Fey-cake, would her dinner." 1 u. tr n.i ku nir an Fifteen minutes before dinner cropped in her armcnair, pui oactney would Tiear her getting some- hcr head and closed her eyes. i thing out of the Ice box. He saw that she might pretty It is a queer plcture-the myster- and that hei-thioat was slender and lous Garbo stirr ng potatoes and lovely. Waiting for her to say frying a steak and ther sitting somotbJnjr else, hs picked up th down at.

the kitchsn table to aat' be ridiculous. You'd think we were married In our nrst year. You're not apt to lose me when I live only four feet from your front door. "I might You can never tell when. I want to have as much of you as I can." He met her quick, searching gaze.

Yee. thev were bluer than black. "All jight then," she said. "At one." He walked on aimlessly until he saw the sign rf a business college in, a second-floor window and he stopped and thought there on corner for about ten minutes. Upstairs in the office of the business college he found a woman whose hair was of a shade of red euch as never grew on human head.

"How fast could a fellow learn to typewrite? I mean if he put every. hing into it. The woman beamed. "I should think an Intelligent young man such as yourself could acquire a fair ability In a week." "A week?" He shook his heed and went out of the oftlce and down to the street. A short sauare man in a brown hat came out of the corner cipar store and stood directly in his path.

"Well?" The man movtd aside but kept on starine. leaning close as if he were-near-slghted. "Excuse me. I thoueht you were som body I knew but you're not him. Just a re semblance.

The young man walked on again, pausing to examine the post ers in front of one or two theatres. He passed by the hospital where George Post lay. staring up at the enlgmatio windows. He considered the attraction of a picture on a side street but decided against it and turned back east He passed by the hospital again slow steps and came finally to Broadway. They had finished their luncheon and leaned slightly and unconsciously towards each other over their little coffee cups.

Only one or two tables were still occupied, and they did not have to worry about being overheard. Her hand lay relaxed, beautifully fragile, he thought, on the table. "Why imist I not ask you about yourself? It's a natural curiosity, isn't it?" "Well, you haven't told me anything, either. You're waiting to start work on a building contract Anybody might be waiting to start work on a building contract But It's bettor like this. You are you and I'm whatever I am.

I shall call you Stranger." "Then I shall call you Strangest He picked up her hand and turned it palm upwards. Her hand felt cool, like a flower cut in the morning. "I want to see what those typewriter keys have done to your fingers. Nothing, apparently." "What they have done is inside." She wlthdiew her hand and turned both of his open on the table. "Hands tell a lot don't you think?" "You mean fortune "No.

but this sort of thing." She touched the smooth, cal'oused places at the base of the fingers of his left hand. "Only a veteran golfer has those. And this one at the heel of your right hand might be tennis, or ft might be made by a ivilo mallet" He laughed and took his hands away. "I wouldn't put much stock in that sort of thing. I suppose we'd better go." He put a bill down on the check and rose.

"That was expensive, she said, glanc ng at the amount "You most of It yourself and so It's your own fault. Perhaps you can afford It Stranger." "He drew a lot of money from his Inside coat pocket, several one-thousand-dollar bills. "So you Money no object I'll take you to a matinee." 0 v. mirror. Often Slgrid or I would find ln ot her informal calls.

Lil tByinlS the little idol standing on the drews-' ne da'- when expected her for mlm'le- Usually hef head ot beside a Kame of Unnllli we were all Wnen I. ha8: Garbo did not stop to put the i Usually, If strangers were present, th. S'rld W0Mld hesd back on-but she never left 1 "ld turn around and go p'JIS dinner was spoiled tn1 1(lol in on the flor hnme. But as ehe knew my wife I dEln'TWnt Wer' dontTca.r- It was some weeks after Greta me, this time we persuaded her The secretary of labor issued aa optlmistio employment bulletin. George Poet, tougher than expected, had not died and probably would not But he still refused to talk.

Protecting his friend Coventry. Or, like si gangster, preferring his own revenge. Stella Post still held, had a minor breakdown and her now famous life story by Anabel Rivera in the Gazette near-ed its lurid end. Webb Coventry had been seen, according to report, in Europe; at Palma; Majorca. But none of that made any difference.

It waa more important that a girl now had color, life In her movements, and made many gestures when ehe talked, and also that the pile of pages to be typed grew higher and higher on her writing table. "Let it go," ha told her. "Well do something about that. Just now I need you." They hsd merely been two in the town for four days, doing Just what everybody else does, a Tot of simple things. And then he bad told her that he loved her; and she, clinging to him, happily, had said: "You say lt'a a chance? There's no such thing as chance.

It's a cause-and-effect destiny, always. Take any two people In town you name. What were you saying, Stranger? I didn't hear you." "I said I loved you." "And I love you Webb Coventry." After a time ha said: "How did you know?" And after a longer time he said: "Why don't you telephone downstairs for the police?" "Because I don't want to. I Garbo, John, "when, after a delicious din-' ner of German dishes he came over to me rubbing his hands together and smiling. 'Everything Is going he said.

'Garbo Is listening to Jacques' story. She like it I think she will make and that Feyder will be the director." Not long alter this dinner party the studio announced that the next picture their Swedish star would make was "The Kiss," and that Feyder would direct it When Emll Jannlngs. speaking only broken English, decided to return to Europe, realizing that talkies soon would be the only kind of picture made in Hollywood, speculation began aa to what would happen to Greta Garbo. The studios were looking doubtfully at their foreign stars. But Garbo wa not wasting her time.

Quick to learn languages, she was reading and studying whenever she could. She was making rapid progress with her diction. Qarbo missed dropping In to see her friends the Jannlngses, but she was glad to have met Madame and Jacques Feyder before they left. They were now her closest friends. They, with John Loder and his wife, Were the only Intimate friends she had.

For the first time since she came to Hollywood Garbo bad found friends with whom she waa genuinely happy. They were the people who knew the real Greta Garbo. While she waa with them she forgot that ah was the great motion picture actress, known the world over as the mysterious Garbo. "The Kiss" proved one of Garbo's best pictures. It was advertised aa a sound picture, but like many of the productions made when the talkies were first gaining a foothold, It was a combination of sound and silent screen.

Garbo did not talk. Her Swedish accent would not have fitted the part But she was preparing for the talkie that was soon to follow. After months, during which Hollywood knew almost nothing about Greta Garbo, no one seeming even to know where she lived, the town began to catch glimpses of the star accompanied by a tall, attractive, blond young man. He was seen driving her to and fro from the etudlo in a roadster. They took long walks together.

They were discovered slipping In and out of motion picture theatres. Garbo. It seemed, had a beau. "Who is he?" everyone was asking. Someone said he was a prince from Sweden, madly In love witn Greta, and in Hollywood Incognito.

Others said he was a childhood sweetheart who had followed Garbo to Hollywood after her visit back home. He seemed as mysterious the mystery woman herseil. It waa Gustaf Norln who later told about the arrival of this man. "One afternoon." he said, "when t1 tnf la.Vm ah. came Into the kitchen with It In her hand saying: 'A friend of mine from Sweden Is arriving by boat tomorrow; morning.

will go But They Solved Their Problems shouldn't love you, but I do. Tou loved that girl and you shot George Post Why don't you go to her while you still have the chance? I'm giving you the chance to be a man." "But I can't Don't you understand? They can't prove anything against Stella without me. I've got to wait to sea what happens to ueorge. They were in the corridor. "Come Into my room," she said.

She picked up some ptled-up manuscript and dropped it into a drawer, then sank limply upon the straight chair she used for typing. Her chin began to quiver and she bit hard upon her lower Up. Then she gave up the struggle and put her lace In her hands. "Sorry to cave In like this. I didn't mean to.

It la Just that I would have liked to remember that the man I loved was a man." "Oh. my dear!" He moved to her side. "So this terrible, unreal tragedy la going to cost me you, too." She looked up. She even smiled. "It was good while it lasted, Stranger." She eald nothing more until he turned abruptly to leave her and then she called after him: "Goodbye.

Breakfast is in heaven." He spent a sleepless night thinking things over. In the morning he called a number: "Polyclinic Hospital? Ninth floor, please. Yes, the head floor nurre. Hello, I'm speaking for Post; Brett 4 Brett Mr. George Post's law firm.

We have a very important case paper calling for his signature. It will In no way disturb him. Is he well enough if we aend one of our young Famous Film Star down to Ban Pedro to meet him. He will probably stay a nlgnt or two at my house, so have one 01 the guest rooms in "n-arho was excited when we parked the car and walked up the gangway to the ship. A young man came Hurrying out 10 greei mi.

recognized him as Wllhelm Boren-sen. cIobb friend of Prince Slgvard, the man who had often been mistaken for the prince as he escorted Garbo around Stockholm during her visit home." "When they got nome, saio. Norln, Garbo took Soiensen out to the garden, where they laughed and talked until dinner. Garbo wanted to hear all about her mother and brother. She wanted to know the gossip of Stockholm about her.

She was very happy to have her friend with her. "He remained in tho house one night. The next morning I drove him tn Hntlvwood. where he took a room at an hotel. From that time Sorensen was a daily visitor ai Garbo's house." John Loder introduced me to Sorensen a tall, lean, good-looking Swede, twenty-four years old and much Interested In Greta Garbo.

"I felt sorry for Garbo when I bade her goodbye that day in Gothenburg," Sorensen said. It was very hard for her to leave her mother and brother and friends and go back to Hollywood all alone. I wanted to stay on the boat and go with her. I vowed then that I would make a trip to America as soon as I possibly could." Instead of entering into the gay life that Sorensen expected In Hollywood, he found himself very much alone. He soon discovered that Garbo had few friends and that she wasn't In any hurry to have him meet those few.

She didn't want to go to theatres In the evenings or to any of the cafes to dine. Since Greta Garbo had started to be seen in public with Wllhelm Sorensen and Jacques Feyder. the motion picture colony believed she was coming out of her long retirement Several celebrities sent her Invitations to dinner parties. Among them was an invitation to Pick-fair to a banquet Mary Plckford was giving for her house guest, Lady Mounlballeu. But Garbo was not accepting any Invitations outside of her own little circle.

She sent regrets. Then Miss Plckford wrote her a four-page letter explaining that Lady Mount-batten was very anxious to meet the Swedish star. "It will be the same old thing," Garbo said to one of her friends. "Strangers staring at me and talking about me. I will be expected to dance, and I despise dancing.

I enn't do it." And again she sent her regrets. But titled ladles. It seems, expect tn meet thne thev want tn knnw. i A few days later, v.hile Garbo was working on the set at the studio, I word was sent back that Lady Mountbatun waa visiting the lot men up with it? No, five minute I win De plenty, man you." It was not a plan he could think about If it were don at all, It must be dona quickly, casually; finished before people at the hospital had a chance to use their Imaginations. He gave the first nam that cam into his head: the man from Post Brett A Brett He followed the crisply starched nurse through the echoing hallways of the ninth floor to a room.

The nurse opened the door. George Post lay motionless on the bed with his back turned. He walked around the bed and pulled a chair close up to It "I've Drought the Blackwell papers up for you to sign, Mr. Post' George Post's long, always pale, vividly human face betrayed no surprise whatever. One of his eyelids drooped slightly.

That was alL Tha nurse walked away. Then the man almost sat up in his bed. "Webb! Oh, I'm all right I've been playing possum for two days for fear they'd make talk before I'd thought of a story that will stick. What has Stella told them? How have you escaped, Webb?" "Simply by doing everything usual and nothing unusual. I collected all my pictures first.

There were only a few. All they had were press sntps and old things, no good for identification. But I can't stand it any more, George, even for you. Stella has accused ma. She told them I was madly in love with her, blackened my name all over Christendom.

George George Post's answer to that un spoken question was to reacn out from the bed and grip his friend's arm. "You only tolerated Stella for my sake, Webb. She wanted to make romantic situation and you were nearest that's all. It was when you were outside and I told her you cared mora for my little finger than for her whole body that she did this. But she's my wile.

Webb. If you give yourself up, you'll have to tesuiy. iney migm ao something to her. Can't you give me Just a day or two more to think?" They wasted one of their precious minute in silence. Then he said: "This means more to me, George, than Just a reputation.

I haven't time to tell you how much it does mean, what it costs me. I will wait until tomorrow noon. Then I'm coins in." They heard the in sistent rapping of tha nurse at the outside door. The telephone was ringing in the ninth-floor office. It seemed porten tous.

Webb left the elevator at the second floor and made his way to the other side of the hospital and down a back stairway. There was a receiving entrance In the rear and be used it to escape into the street A short square man in a brown suit who was at once familiar, was standing- In a doorway. Webb Coventry waited only for the man to take on xorwara step and then he broke and ran with the remains, at least, of a speed that had once made him a quarter- mller of renown. There was confu sion behind him a shot, he tnougnt. He caught a taxi on the run.

Half an hour later a headline caueht his eve: "Webb Coventry Visits Post In Hospital. Eludes Police!" Hardly credulous, ha glanced at his watch. He couldn't have left the hospital more than thirty minutes ago. The thing waa practically and physically impossible) Webb thought about it all morning and wa still wondering about it when be returned to the hotel after luncheon. There was a penciled note under his door.

It read simply: "Dinner la at 7.80." That obliterated all other thoughts. Maybe she realised there were reasons for his actions. Maybe she loved him, after all. He tele- and that, ah would Ilk to meet Mlu narbo. Garbo has issued an ultimatum that she Is in to no one at th studio.

That day ah mad no exception. Lady Mountbatten returned to England without meeting Garbo. Wllhelm Sorensen say the one picture Garbo now would like to make more than any other is "Jeanne d'Arc." She I tired of making pictures she does not want to do. She is a rich woman. She has all th fame and glory ah wants.

Garbo' friends say she has always longed to (fulfil a great desire to go upon the stage the longing that was interrupted when she left the Royal Dramatic School In Stockholm to become the protegee of Stiller. She would undoubtedly be a sensation on th stage, her friends believe. More has been written about Greta Garbo than about the crowned head of her native land. More homage and adoration have been laid at her feet than any reigning queen of Sweden has received. Her weekly salary of $7,500 more than a thousand dollars a day stacks up handsomely with royal Incomes.

What did that strange, awkward, unknown, poor little Greta Gustaf-son have that in five short years has made her the famous, rich alluring Greta Garbo of today? Was it ambition, faith in herself, courage, a divine flame? The world sees this strange, baffling, exotic girl flit across the screen portraying a sensuous, mysterious siren. 8he fits each role so perfectly that to the public Greta Garbo has become the sensuous, mysterious siren. They cannot Imagine her a girl who ln reality prefers fresh air and sunlight to the perfumed boudoirs she lives in on the screen. When Greta Gustafsson selected Garbo for her last name she did not know that she was choosing a Scandinavian name that meant mystery. A garhon Is a mysterious sprite who comes out ln the night to dance under the moonbeams.

Garbo like the true garbon she Is will never be one of the tiresome workaday world. On her island in the sea that borders the Swedish shore she will retire to her land of dreams. There at night ehe will come out to wander with the other garbons on the moonlit shore. THE END IN DUTCH hardly feel like a stranger," said the best man at a wedding; "my friend has so often done me the honor of reading extracts from his dear Ivy's letters." "Sir!" exclaimed the bride. "My name Is Margaret" St.

Anne's (England) Express. INTERESTING Husband (arriving home late) "Can't you guess where I've been?" Wife "I can; but go on with your story," Titr Bits. phoned downstairs to see If ther was a public stenographer at liberty. Jackson cam in with soma fresh towel. "Will you do me a favor, Jackson? You know that tuff Miss Gray Is working on.

I want to get It 1 promised to have some of it typed outside for bar." "It against th rules, sir. But If you'll com with me They went across th hall. Ha opened th table drawer. There waa the pile of manuscript sheets. A note rested on top of them.

It waa a typed memo and it read: "Dear Anabel Great work. Keep It up. Don't lose sight of him and we'll see if can keep the story going for a few days more before break It." It waa signed, "Karnes, City Editor." He picked up on of th sheets of manuscript Th name, Stella, caught his eye at once. Here waa the "life tory" of Stella Post which he had read In the Gazette. Every fourth or fifth page wa headed "By Anabel Rivers.

Special Staff Writer." The pages fell from hi flngera Into the drawer again. He closed it with his knee. "That's all, thank you, Jackson. I don't think I'll take this after all. It isn't quit what I expected." About seven o'clock hs heard the tapping of her typewriter, Intermittent Then there was tapping at his door and when he opened it she was standing there.

She seemed happy. "Hello, titranger. Were you surprised? My note, I mean. I think I must have been a little hysterloal lost night and unreasonable. I wanted you to ba perfect I guess.

And you might have reasons for not giving yourself up besides lack of courage. The risk you took this morning I've read about it It didn't indicate lack of courage. They will bs combing th town for you now." "It would be too bad for th newspapers if they found me, wouldn't It? Writing flnl to th Coventry-Past sensation which might otherwise be good for another week." "Why worry about th newspaper?" She put her hand on his arm. 'Tm happy. Can't you tell? Did you know I have an evening dress, Webb? Td like to put it on and see something gay at the theatre and go to supper and dance." "Yes, that would make good copy.

The characters must always wear evening dress ln the last act Th tabloid reader will lovs It" Sh laughed. "They would they knew." "They'll know." She glanced at him quickly. "You mean you'll be caught?" He shrugged. "As far a that'a concerned, I would be recognized at most places. Perhaps at a night club I wouldn't be.

There again, it's the last thing Webb Coventry would be expected to do." They were dancing. "You haven't said you loved me, Webb not once tonight." "WelL if it'a any satisfaction to you, I love you. That how what love Is." She amlled. "This Is our first dance. I think I shall name it Dance of the Lost Ones." Tbey stopped abruptly in the centre of the room, blinking their eyes.

There had been a dull report A film of white smoke rose above the group of tables near the entrance. Someone had taken a flaah-llght picture. He said: "I think I shall name it The Dance of Judas." He put her into a taxicab and walked home to the ho. el, but she was waiting for him at the end of the corridor, between their two doors. Her handkerchief was clutched into a ridiculously small ball.

"Wait," she said when he tried to brush past her. "I can't let you think that not even for a night Pleas listen to me Webb. I admit It all. I am Anabel Rivers, the writer. One of our sports reporters recognized you the day that thing happened.

They decided to hold the story and they put me here to to get to know you. But they didn't know and I didn't know I was going to fall in love with you, Webb. Oh, and I do love you so. Please believe Ha held her away. "Is that part of the scheme, too?" Her eyes were full of fire for an Instant -only for an instant.

She put her hand against her forehead. "What can I do? How can I prove It to you? Here perhaps this will." She offered him tha key to her door. He took a step backward. He said. "No, I love the dream of you too well, even though it was nothing but a four days' dream.

I am giving myself up tomorrow, at exactly twelve o'clock. If it will complete your paper's scoop, you may personally escort me to th police station. We'll start at eleven-thirty." "But, Webb! Wait a minute. Pleare. They'll send you to prison and you'll never believe She stopped.

"Very well, I shall be ready to go with you at eleven-thirty." They went downtown. "We can cut across the square here, Webb, Is It twelve o'clock?" "Ten minutes to 12" She guided him to an anteroom on the second floor where a number of uncomfortable-looking people were sitting about waiting young men and women, sitting there, round-eyed and silent. She went up to a. grilled window. "It's Mica Rivers, Mr.

Meeker. Is the blank filled out and ready?" "Here y'are. Miss Rivers. Needs only your names." The old man put bis nose to the window bars, whispering, "Is that him? You don't mean it. Judge Aranson will take care of you." She turned about "Will you come here.

Stranger, and write your name? Here, j.wt above mine. Yes, your real name." He wrote his name, Webb Coventry, not very steadily. His face was beginning to flush. They went downstairs and into another dingy office. With a Janitor and a stenographer as witnesses they were married there by a little, bald man too nearsighted to see whom he was marrying.

"The station Ua't her, Webb. That'a Just another lie I told you. Come on. I'll take you there now. I hear them calling an extra out side.

Maybe It's uty paper." It was. It was a double extra. They bought a copy on tha step of City Hall. It was the answer to George Post's day of grace. "Post Admits Threatening Wif Who Shot In Self-Defense.

Coven-try Exonerated. Sporttman Married to St'iff Writer This Morning at City Hall." They were in each other' arm on the steps of City Hall, aa other nave ueen. ne was Bllll aazea. "But, my dear, how can this be? Thai paper said we were married. It jiurt this minute happened." "Do you love me much, Stranger I hope I will make you a good wife.

I was an awfully good newspaper woman.".