DINNER AT EIGHT

Opunake Times, 19 January 1934, Page 1

DINNER AT EIGHT

FOURTH INSTALMENT The Packards were dressing for dinner. Thrusting an ami through a shirtsleeve, Dan was boasting of the new Jordan deal. Kitty bit her lip as she listened. All this talk bored' her. She had no interest in Washington, or in the Big Emma Mine or in conferences. Slowly Kittys exasperation reached the breaking point. Goaded en by Dan's boasts of his own power, she suddenly burst out the truth: there was another man, a lover. But Dan could not learn his name from Kitty. That was her secret, and she kept it. Dan told her that after the dinner he would Le through with her. He wanted to meet the Ferncliffes' but after that he and Kitty were quits. Then Kitty opened up.

"Now, you listen to me while I run off my mouth." she yelled. springing in front of him. "In the first place, you're going to let that Jordan stock stay where it is or I'll spill the beans to the old man himself. You're gonna turn back the stock vou chiselled him out of, or I'll broadcast the whole rotten deal, and when I open my tran thev can hear it clear back in Montana." « » » Larry Renault, in full evening dress, walked up and down his hotel room impatiently. There was a wavering uncertainty about his walk. A whiskev bottle, now empty, lay on the table. It was » quarter to eight, and Larry glanced continually at his wristwatch. Finally, Max Kane walked in, followed by Jo Stengel, the producer. Willi drunken bravado Larry insulted the kindly old Stengel by dictating terms to him. The producer, who realised Larry was drunk, said:

"I think we're keeping you from your dinner, Mr. Renault."

Max returned after escorting Mr Stengel to the elevator. "You drunken fool," he exclaimed. "You're going to get the truth now.. I was sorry for you. Every time I walked into a booking office, thev leaned back and roared when I mentioned Larry Rcnualt. Called me Maxie, the grave-snatcher. Last night I sent a wire to the coast. I knew it was no use but I sent it anyway. Do you want to see the answer? He drew the telegram from his pocket and read: "Thank you. When we are in the market for bit players we will let you know." Then he crumpled it into a ball and threw it at Larry's feet. Larry Renault backed away as if from something dreadful. "Trying to throw a scare into me?" he accused Max. "No, I'm just telling the truth. You never were an actor, but you did have looks. Well, they're gone. And you don't have to take my word for it. Look in the mirlool^ ■ yn i H scUH hcH PrH m i H caiH rn lH ai)H a H wIH of I < ■ a H asH rocH ■ hoH nxH othH Filfl theH thoiH inuH agcrH glielH FiH 1 a u gn^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ "Mr. Renault, we find ourselves in an awkward predicament. We have just had a communication from some very old clients of ours —Mr. and Mrs. Sherman Montgomery. They have always occupied 'this particular suite. You know how people are. They say it's like home to them. They're coming in tomorrow. Is that right Mr. Hatfield?" "Yes, sir," Hatfield agreed obsequiously. "Tomorrow afternoon, for sure." "Well, there you are," Fitch said with a gesture. "Under the circumstances, I'm afraid we must ask you for these rooms." Larry hesitated for a moment. "Oh," ho murmered. "Well. what other rooms have vou got for me?" Fitch shifted. Jrom one foot to the other a little uneasily. "That's jusjfthe trouble," he said. "We're terribly full up. The horse show, vou know and——" He turned to Mr. Hatfield. "Is there any place we can put Mr. Renault?" The assistant made a great show o| consulting his slips. (To be continued)