Two-Face. Ernest Dudley
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I’m told. Are you enjoying it?”
“Yes. But I am afraid also. That is why I wanted to talk to you now. Because when I know you are going to be with me in this strange, exciting new world I do not feel so afraid.”
“You’ll be all right,” was the reassuring reply. “Everybody’s going to be kind to you. Help you to be a great star. Make you happy.”
Mitsi sighed.
“Now hadn’t you better get back to your beauty sleep? Must take care of yourself.”
“All right, Larry. When will I see you?”
“I’ll come over and collect you in a day or two.”
“Au revoir.”
“’Bye!”
Julia took the receiver from her. Noted her expression. Her eyes had complete faith, utmost trust in them. She was smiling with quiet serenity to herself.
Julia gave her a little push. Without a word—as if hypnotized by Larry’s voice—Mitsi went back to bed.
“You know Sadie Harris, don’t you?” Larry was saying. “I want you to take Mitsi along to meet her. Do her good. Give her some right ideas.”
“Right ideas?” queried Julia. “Sadie’s just about the toughest woman in town!”
“That doesn’t mean a thing. She’s a grand person. I knew her well in the old days before she retired from being America’s Queen of Song. Tell her all about Mitsi and my stunt. You know she’ll be very helpful.”
“All right, Larry. I’ll fix up a meeting tomorrow. We’ll go along to one of her mad parties. Initiate Mitsi into life as lived by gay Americans in Paris! Anything else I can do for you?”
“No…just keep up the good work!”
Larry and Julia chatted for a few more moments. It was mainly about Mitsi. He spoke of how his plans were progressing for her reception in London. He was quickly building up an interest in this new glamorous song bird who was to alight in London to thrill the nightlifers.
Her arrival would be greeted with a fanfare of publicity.
He hoped she would stand up to it all right. “She’ll do her best,” Julia told him. “And if she lets you down you’ll only have yourself to blame, dragging an unknown child into the glare of limelight she doesn’t want!”
“It’ll be fun for her!” he argued.
“Fun for you!” Julia retorted. “You know you don’t give a hoot for her feelings. You’re just a hard-boiled newspaper man out on the spree!”
Larry laughed. Then advising her to follow Mitsi’s example and climb into bed, he hung up.
It was only just before she fell asleep Julia wondered if Larry did indeed give the smallest hoot for Mitsi’s feelings. The thought absorbed her, but she was too tired to worry about it. A slight frown did, however, mark her brow as she slipped into oblivion.
Next door Mitsi slept.
Her lips parted in a little smile. It was the same smile she had worn after speaking to Larry.
CHAPTER 10
Mitsi had never seen such an astonishing looking woman in her life before. She had brilliant red hair, brilliant black eyes, and a dead white skin. She was startling in every way. She wore a black dress which Mitsi thought revealed far more than was absolutely necessary.
“Let me look at you, honey!” hoarsely gasped America’s ex-Queen of Song. She put her bejewelled hands on Mitsi’s shoulders and gazed at her intently.
Her eyes, though they are too heavily made up are really very kind, thought Mitsi. I like her.
Sadie Harris turned to Julia.
“Yeah!” she laughed throatily. “I guess she’ll be a riot in London all right! Trust that son of a gun Larry to pick a peach!”
Mitsi blushed. The American woman chortled. “Look! Her face is red! Isn’t she the cutest thing?”
Julia took Mitsi’s hand.
“I’m afraid she’s very shy,” she explained.
“Sure, sure…I’m sorry!” apologized Sadie. “Now come on, have a snifter and meet the folks!” She smiled kindly. “Relax, my dear, relax!”
She led the way into a large room.
“What is a snifter?” queried Mitsi wonderingly.
“Lubrication for the old tonsils,” grinned Sadie.
“She means a cocktail,” Julia explained gently.
The room was surprisingly furnished with green hangings and light wood furniture. To Mitsi it looked like a cool, green cave. The traffic outside in the Boulevard Montparnasse sounded like gentle waves. About a dozen people were present. Most of them were clustered in a far corner of the room where was the cocktail bar.
Mitsi suddenly felt very shy. She turned to Julia who smiled back at her reassuringly. Sadie left them for a moment to get some drinks.
Julia whispered: “Hold tight, my dear! Sadie’s got the kindest heart in the world. If she likes you there’s nothing she won’t do for you.”
“She is beautiful!” breathed Mitsi. There was a wealth of meaning in her tone so that Julia gave her a quick glance. I do believe the child’s got a sense of humour! she thought.
Sadie came across to them, bearing glasses. “John’s latest cocktail mixture!” she cried.
Julia took hers and looked at it suspiciously. It was a sinister green colour containing a large, scarlet cherry.
“It’s positively poisonous,” Sadie went on. “But you don’t notice after the first six!”
She raised her glass.
“Mud in your eye!”
They drank.
Mitsi thought her throat would explode. Fortunately she saved herself from choking, swallowed, and felt better. The cocktail after the first shock had quite a pleasant taste, she decided. Some of the people came over from the corner to Sadie. She introduced them.
As a tall, loose-limbed, ugly young man shook hands with Mitsi, Sadie said: “This is John Foster. He made your cocktail, but don’t be too hard on him!”
“I mean well,” the young man grinned disarmingly.
“I am liking it,” said Mitsi.
“Good for you!”
“There you are, John,” Sadie laughed. “You’ve made a friend. Lucky you!”
The long American was very friendly. Mitsi liked his voice—slow and with a pleasant tang—unlike Julia’s crisp, concise English. He gave her another cocktail. The room began to have a queer, dream-like quality.
She heard as if in a dream the young man talking to her. Others broke into their conversation. Sadie shouted something to which she answered without knowing what she said. Julia smiled at her and to the best of her belief she smiled back. The room was filled with the buzz of chatter.
She found herself talking with unbelievable ease to this man called John. Her shyness vanished by magic and she began to enjoy herself. As she talked she looked round at the others. Her companion pointed them out. Writers, artists, musicians. There was a big, fat man talking to Julia. He was an American newspaper man.
“The same as Larry?—”
“Friend of yours?” queried Foster.
Mitsi nodded.
“Great scout!”
Mitsi felt this was something highly complimentary and she smiled