Page 36 - tender-is-the-night

good trip?’
‘Yes, but we’re glad to be going home.’
‘No-o-o!’ he protested. ‘Stay awhile—I want to talk to
you. Let me tell you that was some picture of yours—that
‘Daddy’s Girl.’ I saw it in Paris. I wired the coast right away
to see if you were signed.’
‘I just had—I’m sorry.’
‘God, what a picture!’
Not wanting to smile in silly agreement Rosemary
frowned.
‘Nobody wants to be thought of forever for just one pic-
ture,’ she said.
‘Sure—that’s right. What’re your plans?’
‘Mother thought I needed a rest. When I get back we’ll
probably either sign up with First National or keep on with
Famous.’
‘Who’s we?’
‘My mother. She decides business matters. I couldn’t do
without her.’
Again he looked her over completely, and, as he did,
something in Rosemary went out to him. It was not liking,
not at all the spontaneous admiration she had felt for the
man on the beach this morning. It was a click. He desired
her and, so far as her virginal emotions went, she contem-
plated a surrender with equanimity. Yet she knew she would
forget him half an hour after she left him—like an actor
kissed in a picture.
‘Where are you staying?’ Brady asked. ‘Oh, yes, at
Gausse’s. Well, my plans are made for this year, too, but that

36 Tender is the Night