Two-Face. Ernest Dudley

Two-Face - Ernest Dudley


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her new-found personality. She must learn to be, to act the part of a glamorous lady as well as look one.

      “Larry is paving the way for you,” said Julia. “You’ve got to follow. Use your common sense and your imagination.”

      “I like Larry so much,” Mitsi murmured.

      Mitsi was only dimly understanding what Julia had been saying. The only solid thing she felt she could hang on to in the future was Larry. She felt that reminding herself of him gave her strength and confidence.

      “Everyone likes Larry,” Julia said. “Leo and I have known him for years. We’re very fond of him.”

      She turned away to gaze out of the window.

      “I am—I am a little hungry,” Mitsi said a little hesitatingly.

      “All right, we will have lunch first.”

      And Julia redirected the taxi.

      They stopped at a small restaurant where outside little tables invited them. The bright sunshine glanced off the polished glasses and made patterns on the gaily checked table cloths.

      “I think Paris is so beautiful,” sighed Mitsi.

      “Leo and I can’t live anywhere else. Of course Leo works better here…shall we sit over there in the corner? I always like a corner table or a side table. I hate sitting bang in the middle of a restaurant, don’t you?”

      Julia marched towards the chosen table and sat down opposite her. She gazed at the golden head, at the piquant, wistful, lovely face.

      Well, well, she thought to herself, it just shows what a beauty parlour and some lovely clothes can do! Wonder what Larry will think when he sees her again? Wonder if he will realize I’ve done all this for the sake of a few words of thanks from him? I like her enormously. I want to help her, but I’m really doing all this for him. I want him to know this lovely creature’s my job. That I made this girl beautiful. I want him to admire my taste.

      She sighed. But actually I know he won’t think of that. He’ll just be knocked over by her and will be worrying himself over this crazy stunt of his. Well, so long as he concentrates mainly on his stunt I suppose I mustn’t mind!

      “What did you say, Mitsi?”

      “What about the songs I will have to sing? Will I sing in English or in French?”

      “Larry’s fixed all that, my dear. He’ll exploit your continental personality as much as possible. Don’t you worry.”

      Mitsi laughed softly. “Continental! That is so funny because I am really more English than French!”

      “You are much more marketable as Parisian, I assure you! So useful being able to say, ‘I do not understand,’ at odd moments when you don’t want to!”

      Mitsi laughed.

      “Would you like to try some wine?” Julia asked.

      “Please I think not. I am not used to it.”

      “Then you’d better get used to it! For I can see a long stretch ahead of you when you’ll have to dig into the stuff every night and be expected to take it.” She smiled. “I’ll get Leo to give you a few lessons on lowering liquor when you get back!”

      The garçon brought a bottle of Sauterne. Mitsi stared at it with wide eyes.

      “What a big bottle it is!”

      “You’re only going to have half of it so you needn’t get excited. Tell me how you feel about life when you’ve had some of this.”

      She poured the pale amber liquid into her glass.

      Timidly Mitsi lifted it to her lips. “It is a very pretty colour,” she said. She sniffed it delicately. “And what a lovely smell!”

      “Bouquet, my dear,” Julia corrected her. “Not—smell.”

      “But bouquet is for flowers?”

      “It’s also the name for the aroma you’re sniffing now,” explained Julia.

      Mitsi looked puzzled and Julia changed the conversation by suggesting she drank, which she did. It tasted very pleasant and she drank a little more. Julia eyed her critically.

      “Take it easy,” she warned.

      Mitsi set down her glass. “A cabaret singer is not a very—nice thing to be, is she?”

      “Good Lord! That’s a very old-fashioned idea! Nowadays it doesn’t matter what you do. Sing in a cabaret—perform in a circus—so long as you make money. You’ll get asked to supper by all the right people, my dear! They’ll only be too thrilled to meet you! And after all, even a cabaret singer can be an artist at her job. Plenty of the really big stars are very talented people. They can make you believe the sickly sentiment about Moons and Junes is something real.”

      Mitsi was leaning forward earnestly, her forehead puckered, as she tried to understand what was being said to her. Julia noticed her glass was now empty. With a faintly lifted eyebrow she refilled it.

      “It’s up to you,” she went on. “Don’t lose your sense of perspective. Or your sense of humour. Give the best you can—but there I go, I am preaching at you!”

      Mitsi gave her a little dreamy smile. Her face was now firmly supported by her hand as she leant across the table.

      “For this suddenly to happen to me, Julia, I cannot understand. For me to suddenly meet people so kind, so good as you and Leo and Larry—it is too much. I cannot believe my happiness. I cry sometimes. My mother would be so happy to know I have such friends as you.

      Before I felt so hopeless—so lost and lonely. I did not want to live. You see there was nothing to look to in the future. Except that to keep myself I must get some work—somehow. I loved nobody, and there was no one loved me, or even cared about me…now it is as if all my worries had been taken away from me. I think I have been too lucky. I think that surely something must happen to punish me for having so much—so easily. I hope it is always like this for everyone who is unhappy and alone. I think there must be always someone perhaps to help everyone?”

      Julia looked across at her. She was quite moved. And there were tears in Mitsi’s eyes. Emotional, highly strung, the girl was quite tragically beautiful now.

      “My dear, you’re being morbid! Never feel you’re alone any more. Leo and I and Larry are your friends.” She laughed a little shakily. “Any friend of Larry’s is a friend of ours! Besides, we like you anyhow so there’s nothing to be grateful for.” She helped her to some more wine.

      Mitsi tried to say something, but choked, her heart too full for words.

      “And don’t ever let wine make you cry,” Julia admonished her. “I know it is such a lovely, miserable feeling, but tears are to be used only on certain useful occasions! They’re valuable! Much more valuable if they are not too often evident. But you wouldn’t know what I am talking about…how d’you feel now?”

      Mitsi gave her eyes a quick dab with her handkerchief. She smiled expansively.

      “I feel happy, very happy! The sun is beautiful. The world is beautiful. Paris is beautiful, and you are the most beautiful of all, Julia! Now all the colours are brighter and things are farther away—the traffic—the cars seem to murmur in the distance. I am drunk with happiness—aah!”

      She leant back and stretched out her arms as if to embrace the entire world. Her glorious hair streamed out behind her as she laughed up at the sun.

      “Humph!” said Julia. “Do relax dear, but mind the waiter with the soup behind you!”

      CHAPTER 6

      “What must we buy now, Julia? I do not feel like buying anything at all. I feel so much like lying in the sun and perhaps sleeping a little.”

      “Sorry to disorganize your inclinations,


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