FILM CITY

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 281, 27 November 1922, Page 10

FILM CITY

..vn.p?i< of Instalment I.—< -.one! Mocre , -a« rt-n . i i-l .."in ihe ' i.l.mi-_ ■> I.' « , )_•_. fortune. This, which i' . urro ui-le-l in mystery aid contained i" _ ■<~'-'~~ j '...uii.l 1..._ a r.)..t square, lie co_!i.ic- I" !i* , daimlit.r. Muriel. f..r _fe keepiai. «:<l' lii-mi-t-.n- tiiat -I,- is ""'- '■" li'ln''" '' up ..cm t.. Mm-el, _r ),is fri. :„l. AIWW ! ]{|i>xii.ime. Hliixliame » f_t.i>-: ii.i- ■ , his estate. Abln.u's !',,»•«■. i" v "'"' ';",'' i T.nr.v i:i which A!_v is au-i oi 'Mnn'V ."....-'.l as i,a Mr.,- a'- ; C v ; i M.iwc and Muriel arc -liniuno- v., tv a s-dicitor'. otli' c. i t lIAPTKK IV. •1 he West Ku.l olli.e of the well-known city linn wa* on the fourth door oi a ; h,,*. Ido-k ..f building no; tar iron the M.-rl.l. Arch, and above a well-known furniture emporium. Muriel and her father were taken up In a Hit. and easily discovered the (jlassfronted door on which tiie l.ame ot tne firm was inscribed. Entering, they found _lieius.lv.. m a kini of waiting room. There was a turkey carpet on the floor, and a lire burnt' in the hearth, for the spr.li;> was chill this year. Each side of the fir.-j place was a leather armchair, and in the centre of the room, a table with directories and reference books. Tn tbe w.i.l opposite the fireplace, was another door With panels of thick frosted ..lass, upon which "Private" was written. A plea-ant-f ic-d Ik*.*, who had a little | de-k in the corner, received til. 111. and said that they were expected. When h»| _iad given them chairs, he knocked on j the partition door, from wliich came the refrular noise of a typewriter. Tt . ceased, the door opened, and Muriel roulrl see a tall, dark-haired pirl. She heard her .-ay. "Mr. Darners is quite. .-ady. Ple.'l-e ask Colonel Moore to! st.p'thi = way." Then she disappeared., the boy summoned the Colonel, and lie, "entered the room, the door closins V-j hind him immediately, but not before! ..Itiri.l heard a deep, man's voice in wel-, come, mingled with the rattle of thc| typewriter, which had bp—in again. I ' Muriel sat down by the fire. Slip was, in a pleasant state of well-being. All j -was well with the world! Her father] home, their fortune .-Cured—tho pros-1 •peet of aoing on with work which she I had reailv grown to love. How delightful it all was! Jf Mr. j Bloxhame reailv meant what lie said — ' and Muriel did'not doubt that —then she Would, in the future, he abl° to pick and Choose ber parts. She would not have to think about money at all. She —rould have influence and hacking. His backing! She began to lose herself in a pleasant day-dream, in wliich the clear grey eyes of Lord Lulwortli". son played a not unimportant part. She w-as roused, at lenfrth. by the sound of a bell, and the ofiice boy rose from his desk in the corner and entered the other room.

"Just give this paper to Miss Moore." a man's voice -aid. "and tell her that Colonel Moore will not be more than another twenty minutes at the outside."

The boy reappeared, carrying a copy of the "Morning Post." but he was called back into the room for a moment by the l.idv typist, and emerged with a bundle of letters for the post. He gave Muriel .lie paper, got Ms hat and went out. •leaving her alone. As she opened it and began to read, she could hear the murmur of conversation, mins-led with the steady rattle of the .typewriter, bnrt in a short time this ceased. . Then, after an _-%rval of two 0 - three Brinutes, the typist herself came put. a tall, fashionably dressed girl, with a velour hat and heavy grey fur-. "he emiled at Muriel, said something about lunch in a. pleasant contralto voice and also left the office.

•For a few more minutes Muriel occupied herself with the newspapar. Then •he put it down and looked at her wrist ■watch. Surely her father had finished; the interview by now? The ofiice, com-] fortable as it was, seemed lonely. It also seemed to her as if it had no character of its own. The chairs, carpet and table were all new. It seemed a place where very little business was transacted. And how silent it was now that the typist had gone to her lunch! 'And—yes, another thing, the low murmur of conversation between her father and, the solicitor, which had persisted all the time as a sort of background to the typewriter, had now ceased entirely.

As she realised that, she was also aware that the actual hum of voices Jnad ceased for quite a considerable period; Not a sound of any sort whatever came from the inner room! Muriel rose from her chair, listened ■with greater intentness than before, apd then went up to the door and knocked aharply. , .. t ■ There was not a sound. She knocked again, and this time called out. As there was not the slightest response, she turned the handle of the door, and entered. She found herself in quite a small room—-when she had imagined one of considerable size. A fireplace, with a smouldering fire, faced her directly. To the right, was an open, roll-top desk with a chair at it. and another chair by its side. To the left, was a tall, grimy window, and by the window a table with a typewriting machine and another chair. The floor was covered ■with linoleum, and the walls were painted a drab green. There was nobody whatever in the room.

Colonel Moore and the solicitor had • ii ;„.,-, f,i n a j r With a startled Cry, Muriel gazed round the room. ..•!'.• __, no other door or means of egress whatever. It was the most plain and uncompromising office to be found in London. She rushed to the window. It was closed, and the catch jammed in the cross piece as she tried to lift it. Then she saw, by the dust along the j sill, that it had most certainly not been' openej for some time. Peering through, eiie saw a great cavern of brick leading' down into some sort of a yard—one of those dizzy interior well* by which the! back office- ol big London buildings get tiieir _..uny light. A cat could never I e_<_p. that way. Hardly knowing what she did, .he rap-| J><-- ai tl..- wall, with tiie handle of ber -mbre-lla. They were of solid ir,, n and, -on-.,,. J lie floor, upon which she next c__t her e'v, was mie unbroken sheet -f <.-rk matting, securely nailed, down. She rushed to the roll-top ifsk ajpou which was a* blotting pad, an ink j «t___d. and nothing more. There were' no papers in the pigeon holes; _-i*U_iug ope... drawer (__»•.,_. sUp tUt J tin-; were empty. fu-u tlie (dace seemed to reel round, tier She grasped for brent" as a\ 4_j.uly tea- .took her by the thj;o.ft_, .a^d'

[All flights ~..»r....]

BY GUY THORNE.

(Author oi "When it was Dark," etc.)

si.ifrjr.riii- out through both rooms, .he! rca-iied the |ni.._jre and .ailed in ai -lirii! pi.r-injj voire for help. i HAPTF.rt V. ,\l_.-rnr.n Bloxhainc sat at tea with 'ii? father in th. famil\ house at Reljrravc Siuarr. out 1 * afternoon _:t<*r hi. meeting with Muriel Moore. Lord I-iilworth was an .n.rjj.ti. little man of sixty, with a pointed prey heard. and l>rij_lit vivacious eyr.. ■•W.H." he s_id. sippin-r hi. tea. "you .rem to have had a thoroughly ■.""'d tim< fur tin- last two years, my dear hoy. N<'thin}.. »f four?!'. liroadeiiß til- mind like a IHsurely trio round the world, and I can sc<> that it' has made a man of yon. Su you really mean to ."ttle dour.

•indeed I do. Father. I simply couldn't !_■ idle, and this new cinema proposition appeals to mc immensely. It is full of _o and hustle. 'Ihe thing is only in its infancy yet. 1 shall delight in it."

"I am very glad. You see your; brother "ill have tin- title and the j estates. When he leaves the army. In will settle down as an ideal country yen- ' tleman. The life suits him. and he it —much better than it has ever suited : mc. though 1 have had to endure it. But; you arc cut ill a different way. Thia] "\i,',,,••'- ( nvp p-t.itp. t'.ie only land n"t j entaiied. has sold for sixty thousand: pounds aikl n considerable numl'rr of, shares in the new company, together ] with mv directorship. Now. my plan i is that'vou shall learn the whole IiUSI-, noss and that when I go. this money and! the shares will be vonr portion. .on] I have already riftc.u hundred a year from. U-our poor dear mother, and if thing.- go 'well, you should lx> a far wealthier man! ! than ...ur brother." 1 1 -It' is very -00.1 of you. Father. It 1 j U just what'l .liould like. How far has , : tlie matter "one" !

"Mt eo-di.crtnr-. all of them business j men and thoroughly acquainted with the j cinema world, know all a h_ut you. -Oil will serve for a year at no salary. At the end of that'time, if you are efficient. you will be promoted to a firr-t class position, with a thousand a year. After ; that, you may go to any height, you I please. It *.____ to mc a prospect that most younger sons would jump at." , "And 1 do jump at it. I am ready j to begin as soon as you like." i "Wish 1 was your a"c and with your i chances." said Lord l.ulworth, with a: : sigh, looking vacantly at his son. "And j now, not that I pretend to any right tit' ask. have you come back as hearl whole , as you went out, Algy? No beautiful! South American lady or Hottentot I Venus in the background as my prospective daughter-in-law?" Algy laugher. ' "Xo, sir." he replied, "there is no one at j all. I never met a girl in all my travels that I could have thougiit of marrying." | Then his face altered a little and a slight I flush came into hi. cheeks. "By the I way, father." he .--aid in the manner of I one who wishes t° change the conver- ! sat ion, "I tliink you once knew a man | called Moore, a Colonel Pat Moore. I l travelled home with his from Australia, !and we became great friends. He's | considerably older than I am. of course." '"Pat Moore!" cried Lord l.ulworth, laughing. "Is he still on the war path! i Haven't seen him for years. We were subaltern- in the Irish Rifles together, 'but 1 left the service when 1 came into j the title. Ife had then got his com- | pany. One of the straightest rider- to | hounds and most devil-may-care fellow I've ever known. He married Lady I Muriel O'Rouke, the Earl of Killcotton's j daughter, one of the loveliest girls I have ever seen in my life, but with little or no fortune, for Killcotton had hardly a penny to his name. Remenrher mc to him when you see him again, and I bring him here, Algy. I should love to ) have a talk about old times with Pat j Moore."

"I will, father, and Lady Muriel, was she very beautiful?" 'T'd have tried for her myself, my boy, if I had thought I'd the least chance, but she hadn't eyes for anyone but Pat. She was tall, as straight as a die, with wonderful dark golden hair, black eyebrows and deep blue eyes. 1 never saw such a girl, and doubt if 1 ever shall again. It seems to mc that the girl, of to-day jywn't a patch upon what they used to be in my youth." Algernon took a private resolution that his father should soon see a girl in every way as lovely as the late 'Muriel Moore, but he said nothing, and at that moment the door opened and a footman came in with a telegram. "For you, sir," he said, holding out his salver to Algernon. ''Excuse mc." he said looking at his father, and tore it open. This is what he read.

"In great trouble and distress connected with father. Could you possibly come and see mc immediately, my flat? Have no one else I can turn to at moment.—•Muriel Moore." The young man looked up. '"Xo answer," he said to the servant. Not a line in his face nor tone in his voice indicated the considerable shock he had just received. '"Well, father. - ' he said, "I must he getting off now. I'll look in again tomorrow. I am in my old rooms in Jermyn Street." Within two minutes Algy was in a taxi speeding to West Kensington as hard as he could bribe the man to drive.