Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 78: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

552 gles of us poor flies!” This was the famous Mrs. Piers Moberly. The reporters came to see Carola every afternoon; that had become a regular part of her day. The twenty-million-dollar heir- ess and the snowstorm of checks she was scattering about her, made first rate news; they never failed to get a story out of it. Carola never told them anything, but let them make it up. Sometimes she had the likeliest among them to dinner and to Elysia later in the evening. That made grand publicity both for Carola and the night club. Business in- creased to such an extent that M. Chablon doubled the cover charge with the aim of keeping out all but the heaviest spenders. It scarcely seemed to make any difference in the crowd. Columns upon columns were written about Carola, all couched in the warm and adulatory phrases that, without her know- ing it, had become the very breath of her nostrils. She bathed in admiration; it cov- ered her like a warm blanket. Sometimes she would dream at night that it had sud- denly been taken from her, and wake up shivering. Everybody told her she was the best known woman in New York. As one slangy writer in the press put it: ‘‘ All the previous spenders who ever hit this burg were pikers alongside of Carola Goadby.” Carola loved that phrase. The sweetest moment of her day was when she sat up in bed in the morning, sipping chocolate, and reading the stories about herself which daily appeared in the papers. And then one morning there was no story. Carola sent out for different papers, but it was the same with each. A particu- larly brutal murder had broken the day be- fore, and in addition there had been a big holdup; Carola Goadby had been crowded out of the news. She affected to laugh at the circumstance; to make cynical little jokes about it; but it rankled; it rankled all day. She felt a kind of disgrace like a deposed monarch, and would not take a party to Elysia that night. Instead she telephoned to Marcus Breedon to ask him to meet her there. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. As soon as she joined him he saw that something was up, but he forebore to ques- tion her. It will come out, he said to him- self in his wise way; and it did. It came tumbling out pell-mell as soon as he said: ‘Well, hello, Carrie! This is great! I never get a word with you no more since you got to be so famous.” “Famous!” cried Carola. “There’s nothing in that stuff!” (She was rapidly acquiring the racy speech of Breedon and the Elysians generally.) ‘‘ These people set you up only for the sake of letting you down after. They play you off for the amusement of the boobs who read their sheets, and when they’re through with you they throw you aside like a rag baby. Don’t speak to me of being famous. I’m done with it. I’ve a good mind to go'into a nunnery if I knew where one was.”’ Breendon smiled. It may be said that he smiled two smiles; an inner smile of sat- isfaction, and an outer smile of sympathy. ‘““A nunnery, now,” he said, “ that would be a change after this, eh? That would land you on the front page again. You’ve got the right instinct for publicity, Carrie. But it would be a kind of farewell appear- ance, wouldn’t it? Finito!” ‘““T never want to see a front page of a newspaper again!” ‘““Tt’s the penalty of greatness, my dear. In order to keep in the forefront you always got to have a new stunt up your sleeve. It’s up to you to pull something new, Car- rie.” “What do you recommend,” she asked bitterly, “‘ a murder or a holdup?” ‘Well, neither would-be exactly in your line,” he said with a chuckle. “‘ The pub- lic resents it when their favorites try to change their réles.”’ ‘What could I do then?”’ ‘Well, you like this place, don’t you? You got your publicity here. Your name is associated with it. Why don’t you buy the joint outright, Carrie, and be the hostess here. That would make a story, I guess.” Carola’s eyes widened as the dazzling possibilities of this idea took hold of her. ‘“* But—but,” she stammered; “ how could , I run the place; buy the food and hire the waiters and all that?” EOPNIG LOO KS (EO) ee