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g； but with him there was always a very definite something to…day which he would specify； in short words if the occasion seemed to demand。 There was not only a definite something every day but a definite if not considerable sum of money to be paid over every Saturday night； and in the meantime three very definite and quite satisfying meals to be freely partaken of at stated hours each day。
The leisure enforced by truly creative screen art was often occupied now with really moving pictures of Metta Judson placing practicable food upon the Gashwiler table。 This had been no table in a gilded Broadway resort； holding empty coffee cups and half empty wine glasses； passed and repassed by apparently busy waiters with laden trays who never left anything of a practicable nature。 Doubtless the set would not have appealed to Henshaw。 He would never have been moved to take close…ups； even for mere flashes； of those who ate this food。 And yet； more and more as the days went by； this old…time film would unreel itself before the eager eyes of Merton Gill。 Often now it thrilled him as might have an installment of The Hazards of Hortense； for the food of his favourite pharmacy was beginning to pall and Metta Judson； though giving her shallow mind to base village gossip； was a good cook。 She became the adored heroine of an apparently endless serial to be entitled The Hazards of Clifford Armytage； in which the hero had tragically little to do but sit upon a bench and wait while tempting repasts were served。
Sometimes on the little bench around the eucalyptus tree he would run an entire five…thousand…foot program feature； beginning with the Sunday midday dinner of roast chicken； and abounding in tense dramatic moments such as corned…beef and cabbage on Tuesday night； and corned…beef hash on Wednesday morning。 He would pause to take superb closeups of these； the corned beef on its spreading platter hemmed about with boiled potatoes and turnips and cabbage； and the corned beef hash with its richly browned surface。 The thrilling climax would be the roast of beef on Saturday night； with close…ups taken in the very eye of the camera； of the mashed potatoes and the apple pie drenched with cream。 And there were close…ups of Metta Judson； who had never seriously contemplated a screen career； placing upon the table a tower of steaming hot cakes； while a platter of small sausages loomed eloquently in the foreground。
With eyes closed he would run this film again and again； cutting here； rearranging sequences； adding trims from suddenly remembered meals of the dead past； devising more intimate close…ups； such as the one of Metta withdrawing pies from the oven or smoothing hot chocolate caressingly over the top of a giant cake； or broiling chops； or saying in a large…lettered subtitleartistically decorated with cooked foods〃How about some hot coffee； Merton？〃
He became an able producer of this drama。 He devised a hundred sympathetic little touches that Henshaw would probably never have thought of。 He used footage on a mere platter of steak that another director might have ignored utterly。 He made it grippingthe supreme heart…interest drama of his season a big thing done in a big way； and yet censor…proof。 Not even the white…souled censors of the great state of Pennsylvania could have outlawed its realism； brutal though this was in such great moments as when Gashwiler carved the roast beef。 So able was his artistry that Merton's nostrils would sometimes betray himhe could swear they caught rich aromas from that distant board。
Not only had the fare purveyed by his favourite pharmacy put a blight upon him equal to Broadway's blight； but even of this tasteless stuff he must be cautious in his buying。 A sandwich； not too meaty at the centre； coffee tasting strangely of other things sold in a pharmacy； a segment of pie fairseeming on its surface； but lacking the punch； as he put it； of Metta Judson's pie； a standardized； factory…made； altogether formal and perfunctory pie these were the meagre items of his accustomed luncheon and dinner。
He had abandoned breakfast； partly because it cost money and partly because a gentleman in eastern Ohio had recently celebrated his hundred and third birthday by reason； so he confided to the press； of having always breakfasted upon a glass of clear cold water。 Probably ham and eggs or cornedbeef hash would have cut him off at ninety； and water from the tap in the Patterson kitchen was both clear and cold。 It was not so much that he cared to live beyond ninety or so； but he wished to survive until things began to pick up on the Holden lot； and if this did bring him many more years； well and good。 Further； if the woman in the casting office persisted； as she had for ten days； in saying 〃Nothing yet〃 to inquiring screen artists； he might be compelled to intensify the regime of the Ohio centenarian。 Perhaps a glass of clear cold water at night； after a hearty midday meal of drugstore sandwiches and pie； would work new wonders。
It seemed to be the present opinion of other waiters on the extra bench that things were never going to pick up on the Holden lot nor on any other lot。 Strongly marked types； ready to add distinction to the screen of painted shadows； freely expressed a view that the motion…picture business was on the rocks。 Unaffected by the optimists who wrote in the picture magazines； they saw no future for it。 More than one of them threatened to desert the industry and return to previous callings。 As they were likely to put it； they were going to leave the pictures flat and go back to type…writing or selling standard art…works or waiting on table or something where you could count on your little bit every week。
Under the eucalyptus tree one morning Merton Gill； making some appetizing changes in the fifth reel of Eating at Gashwiler's； was accosted by a youngish woman whom he could not at first recall。 She had come from the casting office and paused when she saw him。
〃Hello； I thought it was you； but I wasn't sure in them clothes。 How they coming？〃
He stared blankly； startled at the sudden transposition he had been compelled to make； for the gleaming knife of Gashwiler； standing up to carve； had just then hovered above the well…browned roast of beef。 Then he placed the speaker by reason of her eyes。 It was the Spanish girl； his companion of the gilded cabaret； later encountered in the palatial gambling hell that ate like a cancer at the heart of New Yorkprobably at the corner of Broadway and Fifth Avenue。
He arose and shook hands cordially。 He had supposed； when he thought of the girl at all； that she would always be rather Spanish； an exotic creature rather garishly dressed； nervously eager； craving excitement such as may be had in cabarets on Broadway； with a marked inclination for the lighter life of pleasure。 But she wore not so much as a rose in her smoothly combed hair。 She was not only not excited but she was not exciting。 She was plainly dressed in skirt and shirtwaist of no distinction； her foot…gear was of the most ordinary； and well worn； and her face under a hat of no allure was without make…up； a commonplace； somewhat anxious face with lines about the eyes。 But her voice as well as her eyes helped him to recall her。
She spoke with an effort at jauntiness after Merton had greeted her。 〃That's one great slogan； 'Business as Usual！' ain't it？ Well； it's business as usual here； so I just found out from the Countessas usual； rotten。 I ain't had but three days since I seen you last。〃
〃I haven't had even one；〃 he told her。
〃No？ Say； that's tough。 You're registered with the Service Bureau； ain't you？〃
〃Well； I didn't do that； because they might send me any place； and I sort of wanted to work on this particular lot。〃 Instantly he saw himself saving Beulah Baxter； for the next installment； from a fate worse than death； but the one…time Spanish girl did not share this vision。
〃Oh； well； little I care where I work。 I had two days at the Bigart in a hop…joint scene； and one over at the United doin' some board… walk stuff。 I could 'a' had another day there； but the director said I wasn't just the type for a chick bathing…suit。 He was very nice about it。 Of course I know my legs ain't the best part of meI sure ain't one of them like the girl that says she's wasted in skirts。〃 She grinned ruefully。
He felt that some expression of sympathy would be graceful here； yet he divined that it must be very discreetly； almost delicately； worded。 He could easily be too blunt。
〃I guess I'd be pretty skinny in a bathing…suit myself； right now。 I know they won't be giving me any such part pretty soon if I have to cut down on the meals the way I been doing。〃
〃Oh； of course I don't mean I'm actually skinny〃
He felt he had been blunt； after all。
〃Not to say skinny。〃 she went on； 〃butwell； you knowmore like home…folks； I guess。 Anyway； I got no future as a bathing beauty none whatever。 And this walkin' around to the different lots ain't helpin' me any； either。 Of course it ain't as if I couldn't go back to the insurance office。 Mr。 Gropp； he's office manager； he was very nice about it。 He says； 'I wish you all the luck in the world； girlie； and remember your job as filin' clerk will always be here