rched for a walk up
Riverside Drive in a misty summer rain, the water sloshing in her shoes.

"Happy, my ducky?" Irish Mary would say, beaming upon her.

"Perfectly," from Harrietta.

"It's time, too. Real money you're pullin' down here. And a paradise if
ever there was one."

"I notice, though, that as soon as they've completed a picture they take
the Overland back to New York and make dates with each other for lunch
at the Claridge, like matinee girls."

Irish Mary flapped a negligent palm. "Ah, well, change is what we all
want, now and then." She looked at Harrietta sharply. "You're not
wantin' to go back, are ye?"

"N-no," faltered Harrietta. Then, brazenly, hotly: "Yes, yes!" ending,
miserably, with: "But my contract. Six months."

"You can break it, if you're fool enough, when they've finished this
picture, though why you should want to----" Irish Mary looked as
belligerent as her kindly Celtic face could manage.

But it was not until the last week of the filming of Let's get a Husband
that Harrietta came to her and said passionately: "I do! I do!"

"Do what?" Irish Mary asked, blankly.

"Do want to break my contract. You said I could after this picture."

"Sure you can. They hired you because I put Lyddy up to askin' them to.
I'd thought you'd be pleased for the big money an' all. There's no
pleasin' some."

"It isn't that. You don't understand. To-day----"

"Well, what's happened to-day that's so turrible, then?"

But how could Harrietta tell her? "To-day----" she began again,
faltered, stopped. To-day, you must know, this had happened: It was the
Big Scene of the film. Lydia Lissome, in black lace nightgown and
ermine negligee, her hair in marcel waves, had just been "shot" for it.

"Now then, Miss Fuller," said young Garvey, the director, "you come into
the garden, see? You've noticed Joyce go out through the French window
and you suspect she's gone to meet Talbot. We show just a flash of you
looking out of the drawing-room windows into the garden. Then you just
glance over your shoulder to where your husband is sitting in the
library, reading, and you slip away, see? Then we jump to where you find
them in the garden. Wait a minute"--He consulted the sheaf of
typewritten sheets in his hand--"yeh--here it says: 'Joyce is keeping
her tryst under the great oak in the garden with her lover.' Yeh. Wait a
minute ... 'tryst under tree with'--well, you come quickly forward--down
to about here--and yo