An unhappy thought struck Julius—Miss Mersereau and Miss Greenberger were with us in his office. We could not start before the World Film Company had given a release of all their rights to Yellow and White in legal form. Though I explained that nothing had been signed, Julius got the New York office on the phone and told the operator to switch him onto the legal department. After a long conversation I gathered that the Universal lawyer was not keen on starting until the matter had been taken up with the World Film Company, and apparently a Mr. Selznick was away. Julius banged down the receiver and began to walk up and down his office. He took off his hat a couple of times and put it on again.
"My God! my God!" he said. "If we don't start Monday!"
Visions of Mr. Laemmlae in a straight jackettyping error in original. appeared to be haunting him.
"You haven't another story we could do first?" hazarded Miss Mersereau.
"I have," I lied.
"Can you start shooting Monday?" said Julius.
"Sure thing," I said.
"Tell us the story," said Miss Mersereau.
I studied her closely for a few moments, racking my brains for the kind of a subject that would suit her. I sized her up as a girl who could play drama and comedy equally well....An idea came.
"The theme of the story," I said slowly, "the theme of the story is this: Can a child reared in the slums, in the criminal underworld, outgrow the influences of her environment?"
"Her who?" asked Julius.
"E-N-V-I-R-O-N-M-E-N-T," I spelled out. "The story is along these lines," I said: A wealthy philanthropist of forty, whose hobby is social welfare takes exception to the claim of his friend, the district attorney, that once a criminal means always a criminal. To prove the contrary he proposes to take into his home a child of criminal parents that has already been sentenced by the juvenile courts, and for five years to give it every chance a child of his own would have had.
"The district attorney chooses a girl of thirteen, a pickpocket, whose father he had sent up for ten years on a burglary charge.... The philanthropist places her in charge of his housekeeper, and she becomes a member of the family—the others being himself and a prim elderly aunt.
"The girl's education will give us plenty of chances for light comedy and gags—the dignified family butler, who has a weakness for his master's liquor, the stern but motherly housekeeper, the old-fashioned governess and the aunt being foils for the star....
"When the girl is seventeen a rich young man-about-town, who is her protector's closest friend, falls in love with her and wants to marry her....The girl is very fond of him and willing.... Her protector's permission is asked. The request shocks the philanthropist, who for the first time visions the emptiness of his home without her. But he agrees, provided the girl herself is sure she is in love.
"'Of course you are aware of her antecedents?' he says to his friend."
"Her who?" interrupted Julius, taking off his hat again.
"A-N-T-E-C-E-D-E-N-T-S," I spelled out.
He looked at me dubiously but refrained from comment.
"A week before the wedding," I continued, "the philanthropist decides he can't face the ordeal and prepares to leave town for a while... When it comes to saying goodbye he looks into the girl's eyes for a long time.
"I hope you are going to be very happy', he says. His lips tremble as he speaks. He draws her to him and kisses her on the forehead... His automobile is waiting for him outside....
"When the door closes behind him the girl suddenly realizes it is with him, not with his friend, that she is in love. She starts for the door after him with tears in her eyes. 'Don't go!' she cries with a sob in her voice... At that moment the dignified aunt enters and the girl pulls up short. She regains her composure with difficulty....From the window, with a sinking heart, she watches his automobile drive away...."
I got up.
"Who's got a match?" I said.
"Here," said Julius. "Keep the box. What happens next?"
"That's not the end?" said Miss Mersereau.
"You can't end it there," said Miss Greenberger.
"I don't," I said. "The girl goes with her protector's aunt to call on her fiancé's parents....They take to her at once. Her beauty and charm dispel any hesitation they may have had.
"The preparations for the wedding begin. But the morning of the wedding there is no sign of the girl. A note is found,—for her protector....They telegraph him to come back at once.
"The note tells him she cannot marry his friend because she is in love with him, and the only thing left for her to do is to go away. She begs him to forgive her.
"The philanthropist, aided by his friend, the district attorney, begins a search for her. But it proves fruitless. In the meantime the girl realizes she has to see him again, and decides to brave what she believes will be his anger at her running away from the wedding...."
I came to a stop and walked over to the window. I had run out of ideas.
"Gee, go on," said Miss Greenberger.
"Did she see him?" said Miss Mersereau in a low voice.
As I turned I noticed a photograph of King Baggot on the wall. He was holding a pistol...a pistol.
"The girl's father is released from prison," I said. "He is out to get the district attorney who sent him up, and trails him to the home of the philanthropist on Gramercy Square.
"As the two men get out of an automobile and walk up the steps, the girl, who is standing behind a tree across the street, sees a man whose back is turned to her, level a pistol at them. Thinking he is aiming at her protector she throws herself on him as he pulls the trigger...and receives the ball."
Miss Mersereau's eyes were moist.
"Gee, she doesn't die?" said Miss Greenberger.
I thought it over and shook my head.
"When she recovers she marries the philanthropist," I said.
"You like it, Violet?" said Miss Greenberger.
Miss Mersereau smiled a little and closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek.
"That's a better vehicule for you than the Chink story," said Julius looking at her.
"It sure is," said Miss Greenberger. "You don't have to be scared of that one, Mr. Stern."
"What's the name of it?" said Julius.
"The name of it?" I said. "The name of it?...The working title is The Experiment."
"How do you like it, Mr. Stern?" said Miss Greenberger.
"Well," said Julius putting on his hat and taking it off again, "there's two things I can tell you right now got to be changed."
"What are they?" I asked.
"What you was spelling out," he replied.