them! Tell ‘em to write it themselves if they need it so much!” And I slammed down the receiver.
CHAPTER NINE
I DID not see Carol that evening. I did not feel like it. I did not feel like doing anything after the way I had bawled out Merle. Once I had cooled down, I realized just how crazy I had been. Merle was the best agent in Hollywood. Writers and stars fought for her to handle their business. She was only interested in five-figured incomes and everyone knew it. So if she was your agent, your credit stood high everywhere. By bawling her out as I had done, it was likely that she would drop me. Right now, I could not afford to be without Merle. If there was any work to be had, it would come through her. In actual fact, she was my meal ticket. As soon as I had realized what a fool I had been and seen what a mess I had landed myself in, I telephoned her. Her secretary said she was out and she did not know when she would be back. She sounded as if she did not care. This did not look good to me so I wrote Merle a note, apologizing for what I had done and pleading a hangover. I said I hoped she would understand. I did everything in that letter except kiss her feet and I sent it to her office by special messenger.
After lunch, I still felt like hell. The idea of passing up three thousand dollars was wormwood to me. But what worried me more was that I could not sit down and write a simple article at a moment’s notice. That was something to worry about. It told me, as nothing else could tell me, that I had not the equipment to make the grade as a first-class writer. The thought stuck in my throat like a fish hook.
Anyway, I did not feel like spending the evening with Carol. I knew she would start something about Eve and my temper was too jumpy to take anything from anyone. So I called her and told her I had to go to Los Angeles on urgent business. She wanted to see me on Saturday, but I lied myself out of that too. I could tell by her voice that she was depressed and disappointed, but I was determined to spend the week-end with Eve and no one was going to upset my plans. All the same I felt a heel when Carol tried to persuade me.
Then I wrote to Eve. I told her I would call for her at six- thirty the following evening, that we would go to the theatre and have the rest of the week-end to get to know each other. I enclosed a hundred dollar bill saying it was for bed-and-break- fast charges. This was the first time I had ever paid a woman to go with me. I did not like it. Somehow I began comparing myself with Harvey Barrow, but I told myself that she would come out with me before long just for the fun of it. That made things different.
The following morning while Russell prepared breakfast, I lounged in the big armchair by the window and idled with the newspaper.
“Russell,” I said, when he brought the coffee and eggs, “I’ll be away for the week-end. I want you to go out to Three Point and pack my things. I’m giving the place up. See the Estate agents and fix it with them.”
He slid the chair under me as I sat down at the table. “It’s a pity to give the place up, isn’t it, Mr. Clive?” he said, spreading a snowy napkin across my knees. “I thought you liked it out there.”
“So I do, but I have to cut down on something and Three Point is costing me plenty.”
“I see, sir.” His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “I wasn’t aware that we were financially embarrassed. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Maybe it isn’t as bad as that,” I said, not wishing him to be scared. “Let’s face it, Russell. “Rain Check” is now only paying $200 a week. Last week, it didn’t pay at all. There’ll be nothing from the books until the end of September and when I do get payment it won’t be all that good. So I have to cut down for a while.”
Russell looked vaguely alarmed. “Won’t you be writing something else before long, sir?”
“I’m working on something now,” I said, taking the cup
CHAPTER NINE
I DID not see Carol that evening. I did not feel like it. I did not feel like doing anything after the way I had bawled out Merle. Once I had cooled down, I realized just how crazy I had been. Merle was the best agent in Hollywood. Writers and stars fought for her to handle their business. She was only interested in five-figured incomes and everyone knew it. So if she was your agent, your credit stood high everywhere. By bawling her out as I had done, it was likely that she would drop me. Right now, I could not afford to be without Merle. If there was any work to be had, it would come through her. In actual fact, she was my meal ticket. As soon as I had realized what a fool I had been and seen what a mess I had landed myself in, I telephoned her. Her secretary said she was out and she did not know when she would be back. She sounded as if she did not care. This did not look good to me so I wrote Merle a note, apologizing for what I had done and pleading a hangover. I said I hoped she would understand. I did everything in that letter except kiss her feet and I sent it to her office by special messenger.
After lunch, I still felt like hell. The idea of passing up three thousand dollars was wormwood to me. But what worried me more was that I could not sit down and write a simple article at a moment’s notice. That was something to worry about. It told me, as nothing else could tell me, that I had not the equipment to make the grade as a first-class writer. The thought stuck in my throat like a fish hook.
Anyway, I did not feel like spending the evening with Carol. I knew she would start something about Eve and my temper was too jumpy to take anything from anyone. So I called her and told her I had to go to Los Angeles on urgent business. She wanted to see me on Saturday, but I lied myself out of that too. I could tell by her voice that she was depressed and disappointed, but I was determined to spend the week-end with Eve and no one was going to upset my plans. All the same I felt a heel when Carol tried to persuade me.
Then I wrote to Eve. I told her I would call for her at six- thirty the following evening, that we would go to the theatre and have the rest of the week-end to get to know each other. I enclosed a hundred dollar bill saying it was for bed-and-break- fast charges. This was the first time I had ever paid a woman to go with me. I did not like it. Somehow I began comparing myself with Harvey Barrow, but I told myself that she would come out with me before long just for the fun of it. That made things different.
The following morning while Russell prepared breakfast, I lounged in the big armchair by the window and idled with the newspaper.
“Russell,” I said, when he brought the coffee and eggs, “I’ll be away for the week-end. I want you to go out to Three Point and pack my things. I’m giving the place up. See the Estate agents and fix it with them.”
He slid the chair under me as I sat down at the table. “It’s a pity to give the place up, isn’t it, Mr. Clive?” he said, spreading a snowy napkin across my knees. “I thought you liked it out there.”
“So I do, but I have to cut down on something and Three Point is costing me plenty.”
“I see, sir.” His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “I wasn’t aware that we were financially embarrassed. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Maybe it isn’t as bad as that,” I said, not wishing him to be scared. “Let’s face it, Russell. “Rain Check” is now only paying $200 a week. Last week, it didn’t pay at all. There’ll be nothing from the books until the end of September and when I do get payment it won’t be all that good. So I have to cut down for a while.”
Russell looked vaguely alarmed. “Won’t you be writing something else before long, sir?”
“I’m working on something now,” I said, taking the cup
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