SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIX, Issue 18279, 21 December 1922, Page 14

SHORT STORY.

THE INTERVIEW.

BY HENRY BAXTER.

(Copyright.)

The Cabinot Minister's favourite pipe -was the most disreputable in his collection. Ho only ismoked it in his den and in tho editorial-room of the Daily Crisis. As the Daily Crisis office happened to bo the nearer on a certain night a taxi dropped him there Ho was stuffing tho disreputable pipe with tobacco as the lift boro him upwards. Ho was as eager to get it between his teeth as a gallant to enfold his mistress in his arms. Had not tho Cabinet "Minister been so devoted to his disi-eputablo pipe, this story would, in all probability have run on different lines, for Dalby, the editor of the Daily Crisis, had given up that interview. Dalby did not rise as the Cabinet Minister entered. Be just raised his eyes a moment and nodded greeting. THe Cabinet Minister seated himself, without a word, established himself comfortably without noise, and blew out, with obvious satisfaction, huge clouds of tobacco smoke. Presently the editor pushed a mountain of papers away from him and leaned back. The Cabinet "Minister knew that now ho could open fire. " You've heard the S;ulio Delormer rumour, I presume'" he said. Dalby nodded reflectively. " Anything in it?" " Don't know."

" Really, my dear fellow, you ought to make a special effort to get an interview with her. There's some mystery about the wholo thing. I know for a fact several of your rivaJs have had their best men on tho trail. But they have been unsuccessful. She has absolutely declined to see any one of them. Now, most actresses, as you know —even if they havo achieved the eminence- of a Sadie Delormer' —are only too eager to give- all tho information possible when they are ,i?oing to be married. After all, even tho divine Sadie is only a woman—so it cannot be a peer. Man alive, it may bo a crossingsweeper. That would bo copy for you, eh?"

" As a matter of fact," said the editor, slowly, " I have had practically every member of the staff on the job." "Really!" The Cabinot Minister raised his eyebrows. " Then I have beon doing you an injustice, old fellow. I thought you were not very keen about it." They talked of other things for a while. Then the Cabinet Minister placed his disreputable pipe in a very respectable case and announced that he must be off. " I'd have another shot at Sadie Delormer," he said, as ho moved to the door; "I have a feeling it's worth while." The editor smiled a trifle wearily, and nodded.

Presently he touched one of many buttons before him, and a. few moments later a short man entered the room, with a quick, firm tread. He brought with him something like electricity. The editor, still leaning back, said in a dreamy monotone: " You might try the new man on Sadie Delormer." " All right," said the short man. He was the news editor. Something in his tone made the editor turn a mildlyquestioning eye on him. " Yon don't think much of his abilities as an interviewer, Mr. Drale?" Thf> news editor said ho vras quite sure ilia fellow had never been on a newspaper tefore. "You are quite right," said the editor, easily, disconcerting him, for a moment, " he hann't." " I've given him five assignments," muttered the news editor, " and he's fallen every time." The editor did not seem at all perturbed. " Well, let him have another shot," he said. -The news editor left the room very noisily. He always left the room very noisily when he was not pleased. He bounced down into the reporters' room, and just pulled up in time to avoid a collision with a tall, well-favoured young man. wiio, hands in pockets, and pipe in mouth, was pacing softly up and down, alone. "What are you doing?" the news editor asked irascibly. "Nothing," he said; "there's nothing to do." " Then, hang it, man, pretend there is," snapped the news editor. "I can't pretend," said the young man, with a grave simplicity, that made his senior look at him as at some new form of animal. " Well, look here," he said, " I want you to interview Sadie Delormer." Tho young man certainly showed signs of distress, but the news editor, though noting them, rather enjoyed the qualms he was giving rise to. " She's going to be married," he went on brusquelv. " Find out who the fellow is—and a'll fibout it." The young man sank to a chair. He was positively paling. " The great actress?" he gasped. The news editor nodded. ".•ind going to be married?" " That's what I said. It's a habit they have—actresses. Not afraid of an actress, are you? Why, man, they are the easiest of all people to interview." "Are they? Dear me!" The young man seemed like a man trying to talk commonplaces in a dentist's chair, just before a tooth-pulling operation. " Of course they are," said the other. "Have you never met an actress?" " I have," was the reply, " but—but—l was very young then." " Ah, well: trot along," he said presently. " See what you can do." Tho reporter spent the greater part of the day trying to locate tho great actress. He was very tired when, late in tho evening, a big poster caught his eve. with the name of the lady he was seeking blazoned on it. He had not known tho theatre where she was appearing even, which, he told himself, was strange. At a side door he handed his card to a hitman in uniform. "I want to see Miss Sadie Delormer " he said. The man surveyed the card as if it were a cunos:Ly. "I'm afraid it's no go, young man " he said presently. " several other press ehans have been, and all wcro turned empty away. J " Well, just take her mv card, anyway will you?" * "" "All right." The uniformed man disappeared. Half-way down a long corridor, he made as if to put the card in his pocket. He stood for a moment—and then went on. Something in the young man's manner had found the soft, place. For even janitors have a soft place—at times. " Miss Delorn»er will see you," was the message ho brought back. He said it as if he himself were making the concession. " You are to go in at once. You are Incky. The second act is just over, and there's a long interval." Thoy stood facing each other in the little dressing-room alone. Another figuro had flitted silently away as a sign from the famous young actress. She brought her hands to his shoulders. "Are you not glad to see me?" she asked tremulously. The hands dropped from his shoulders. Still he uttered no word. Her dazzling beauty brought no riot of pleasurable emotions to his face. His eyes were fixed and staring, like those of a man bereft of his beloved. " Raymond. . * . Raymond. . . dear." The voico had an anguished mother-note. "Eh!" Ho roused himself, as if from a stupor. Then, as if he had been drinking, he began to talk, hoarsely, incoherently at fir«t She had deceived him—deceived him—and he—he had come to interview her—for his paper. Good God—the irony of it. Who was the lucky man.' 1 That was one of tho questions. Ha. ha! hai " Raymond—dear." There were tears in her eves. It was no use. He rambled j on lifting a hand to clear a strand of j

hair that fell over his eyes, Ho must have—the (particulars—yes, the particulars—how rotten life was— It was to bo the Crisis' scoop. And she—she had told him—she would wait—would ujMt for him—until his father had died—had actually gone so far in her deceit as to say she would marry him then, at once, knowing he would refuse, because ho was poor and she was rich. She had said these things—she had said them—under the 6tars—and had forgotten. " No, no. Raymond," she forced him to a seat. "Listen." . . . His head fell fonvard; ho buried Ins face in his hands. . Her voico suddenlv became full. N|o stood back for him. The light of a smile glinted through tears. " Raymond," she said, " I hope to announce my engagement through your pa"Yes." He removed his hands, and looked up at her—vacantly. "But, I haven't been asked yet r "I'm asking you—now." His voice was " I mean the man has not asked me." " Then—" he made as if to rise—' it a no good to me—l wanted the fellow a name, all the details." He laughed discordantly. , , ... She forced him back, and then fell on her knees before him. " Oh, Raymond," she cooed, half-sob-bing, half-laughing. "Don't you see—my dear—mv dear." She flung back her head. " Can you think of no way of getting the announcement?" "No, unless I propose, myself—and von accept me." His ton© was bitterly cym- *' Then do it—do it," She flung > her arms about him. "Oh, you stupid 1 A creat light came into his face. «' May I really, Sadie? Will you marry jne?" " I will." „,, "But what about the other fellow.' " There is no other fellow." "Broken off?" "No. indeed. There never was any other fellow." "Oh." . , " But I sav von'd better get. back to the office with tho story. You'll bo able to descn!>e the lucky man." " But—Sadie—that reminds me, I m still poor, you know." " Still poor!" "I'm just a reporter, you know—and I have been expecting the sack for several davs." " But surely you havo seen the evening papers?" '' No; I only look at the Daily Crisis— to see if my'stuff is in, you know. It i sn "t—generaTTy. What is there startling in the evening papers. Sadie mine?' But Sadie 'was sobbing. " Oh! Oh ! Oh!" Presently, like a child, sho looked up through her tears. " You need not if you would rather not," she said. " What are you talking about, my dear girl?" he said. " You talk in riddles. I needn't what?"

" Marrv me." " But I insist." " Really?" " Indeed, yes. But what is tho startling announcement in the evening papers?" "Your uncle, Lord Foley, is dead, and you are his next-of-kin!" A voice came from tho doorway. " Just before I go—you do want me?" His answer, though it was not audible, satisfied her. She floated away with a happy smile. And that's how the DaiV Crisis came out first with the announcement of Sadie Delormer's engagement to a newly-made peer of the realm, though the reporterpeer hardly recognised it next morning, so much appeared about the prospective bridegroom that he had not written. It told of his adventures in all parts of the world, and how he had met first the famous actress—this made him smile. A statement that he was somewhere abroad game-hunting tickled him still more.

In the Daily Crisis reporters' room, to this day, some of his lordship's "copy" is among the mural adornments. It has been left there as a warning to junior reporters.