«Plenty, sir. There's Miss Pauline Powell's.»

«She's slipping. Bring 'em up.»

Soon the photographs were all taken. The pressmen withdrew.

«Now, young people, I'm going to send you off to make friends with one another.»

«Oh, Mr. Mahound, aren't you coming along?» cried Belinda with an arch pout and wiggle.

«Call me Nicholas, my dear. Tonight, alas, I can't be with you. I've a great deal to attend to.»

«But,» said she, «do you think I ought to be seen about with a writer?»

«Mr. Rythym is a very distinguished writer, my dear. What's more, he's my right-hand man.»

«Yes, and I'm going to explore your psychology.»

This cheered the future star a little. «I want to know all about my psychology,» said she as we went down in the elevator. «I'm not going to be an ordinary actress, Mr. Rythym. I'm going to be intellectual. And at the same time I like nothing better than cooking, just simple things, in a simple play-suit. I'm going to ask Clark Gable, and Katharine Hepburn, when I get properly known, and Gary Cooper, and give them little cookies I bake myself.»

«Fine! Stick to that idea. I like it.»

«And you'll tell me all about my psychology?»

«Sure,» said I. «We'll go into it together. Come on.»

Next day, I spent a lot of time with Mr. Mahound. His suite was full of orchids and cablegrams.

«People are getting excited,» said he, rubbing his hands.

«Yes.»

«We're going to do great things.»

«Yes.»

«Now, what about our Belinda? Can you fit a part to her psychology?»

«Yes. I'm sure of it.»

«Did she … talk about me at all last night?»

«She did. She thinks you're the cat's pyjamas.»

«The cat's pyjamas, eh? Rythym, we're going to do great things. Great things! Run along.»

I ran along to the restaurant where I was to meet Belinda. She seemed to have acquired poise overnight

«Mr. Rythym. How do you do?»

«Listen. A film studio is the greatest democracy in the world. You can call me Charlie.»

«Yes. I'm just simple. I like to cook. How's Mr. Mahound?»

«Belinda, he's wild about you.»

«Tell me. Is he one of the really great producers?»

«The biggest of all. He's got all the money in the world.»

«Yes, Charlie. But there's one thing money can't always buy, not in England anyway. Or is that just a thought of my own?»

«You mean talent. I can guess your thoughts, Belinda.»

«Don't do that. You see, my people are old-fashioned. I think I'd like to play Juliet.»

«It's been done.»

«Not as I shall do it. You shall write a new script, specially for me.»

«O.K. We'll modernize it. The Capulet apartment is in a New York skyscraper. Romeo's a young G-man, from Harvard, but disguised as a Yale man in order to outwit the gangsters. Capulet's Harvard, you see. It builds for a reconciliation, a happy end. Romeo's keen on mountain climbing; that builds up for the balcony scene. On a skyscraper, you see. Only his name's not Romeo. It's Don.»

«Isn't that making him different?»

«Well, you know what Shakespeare said, 'Wherefore art thou Romeo?»'

«Juliet said that.»

«Well, anyway, it showed there were doubts.»

«You're right I've only just thought of it. Charlie, you write my thoughts in a book on Shakespeare, and I'll sign it. I don't want to be an ordinary actress.»

«You won't. But let's go and join Mahound. He's wild about you.»

«And he's really one of the very big producers?»

«He is. But, a word in your ear. (God! It's like a shell! A lovely, rosy shell!) I was going to say, remember you've got the talent. Last night you were just a discovery. Today — you are what you are today. You're developing fast. Think in a big way. Don't let anybody cramp your style. Not even Mahound.»

«No. Because of my art. That's sacred.»

«Grand!»

Mr. Mahound, when we entered his suite, took both her hands in his. «What a very, very lovely thing to do, on the part of a very, very lovely lady, to come and see a poor old film man, in his little hide-out in the Beverly-Ritz!»

«Nicky, Charlie's thought me up a part. Juliet, only better.»

«Splendid. Have you anyone in mind for Romeo, my dear Rythym?»

«Oh, some guy.»

«He's got to climb up the face of a skyscraper, Nicky. For me to do the balcony scene, holding a rose.»

«Will your Hollywood leading men manage that, Rythym? They are not all as young as they might be.»

«Sure. They'll climb anywhere. And look, we've got to work in a Joan of Arc touch to build up the part. She's got to save New York.»

«From what?»

«Gangsters. And listen to the pay-off.»

«What's that?»

«Real bullets.»

«Oh, Rythym! Come, come! After all, there are rules to the game, you know. Even I …»

«Hear me out,» I cried. «The part demands it. Doesn't it, Belinda? How's she going to act up, give all she's got, if you let her down on the bullets?»

«I think I ought to have real bullets, Nicky.»

«Of course,» I insisted. «Do you think Theda Bara would have played Cleopatra without a real pearl?»

«Not a real asp, though,» said Mahound, clutching at a straw.

I twitched it away. «Yeah, a real asp, only an old one. With its teeth out. You can use old bullets. Say, you can use old gangsters, and let on they died of heart failure.»

«You sound rather tough all of a sudden, my dear Rythym.»

«Tough? You wait till I get on the set!»

«Perhaps the set will have parquet flooring.»

«Yes, perhaps it will,» said I, despondently. «Perhaps we'll have blank cartridges. Perhaps I'll go out and buy some real pearls instead. Because I'm going to write in a Cleopatra touch, where she comes in rolled up in a carpet»

«Do so, my dear fellow. We've got a writer of talent, Belinda.»

«Charlie's all right, but he gives way so. Please, Nicky, I want real bullets.»

«Listen, folks,» said I. «I'm off to buy those pearls. You talk it over.»

On the way back, I was overcome by misgivings. Had I gone too far? Maybe the pearls were a little vulgar. I thought I'd go to my room and see how they looked with two or three of the largest taken from the middle. As I walked along the corridor the elevator came humming down. Mr. Mahound was in it. He saw me. His lips shaped the words, «She's wonderful!» Then he was gone.

Later on, I went up to his suite. Belinda was there alone, tearing up orchids.

«They look like confetti,» she said. «I find him a leetle … fascinating, your Mr. Mahound.»

I noted her middle-European accent. «You have your bullets, then?»

«Charlie, we're going to have me save the city from a Red Navy. Real shells.»

«That's right, Belinda honey. Nick's a grand guy. He's a white man, Belinda. He's got background. If I were a girl, I'd think a lot of Nick. But don't forget it; you're the one with the talent. Don't let anybody cramp your style. You've got a big future, Belinda. Maybe you think you're in the money. Baby, that's chicken feed to what's coming to you, all so long as you don't get your style cramped.»

«You're right, Charlie. It's my art. It's sacred.»

In the evening I saw Mahound alone. «She's wonderful, Charles! But … I say …»

«Yeah?»

«Did she say anything to you about shells?»

«She said you'd said something to her about shells.»

«Maybe I did. In a moment of emotion. It's tough, Charles. Real shells! There'll be trouble. I don't want to be dragged into court»

«What do you care?»

«I care about my ambitions in pictures. What's more, Charles, I don't like your script. Forgive me, old fellow. It's a grand script, but I don't like it. The fact is, it's too expensive.»

His eyes could not meet mine. I saw that he was ashamed that his millions were not entirely unlimited. I reflected that where vanity of that sort is to be found on one side of a contract there is always hope on the other. I goaded bun. «I thought you had all the money in the world. I thought you were solid. They say 'rich as the devil,' you know.» He couldn't bear to say frankly he was only a devil. He muttered something about a budget being a budget.