admitted the schoolteacher. “They take tunes apart and put them back together sideways. But what about you and Larry Reed?”
“Larry was the nicest and most exciting of the lot, in most ways. But his divorce wasn’t final then and I didn’t want to get serious about a man who was at least technically married. We went dancing to Mocambo and Ciro’s and places like that, but before the thing got really final—” The girl hesitated.
“Yes—” prompted Miss Withers.
“Before his divorce got final, something happened,” said Janet a bit dreamily. “But you must understand; we all stayed friends.”
“Somebody didn’t stay just friends,” observed Miss Withers, nodding toward the diamond on Janet’s ring finger.
A warmish, crooked, little-girl smile illumined Jan’s face. “Guy,” she said softly. “All this I’m telling you about happened before Guy came to stay at my boardinghouse. He was a piano guy, a crazy mixed-up kid as they say, but there was a piano in the place and I heard him play and suddenly I woke up and there I was—engaged to be married. It’s going to be this summer.”
“You are referring to the musician, I gather?”
“Guy? Yes, he plays the piano and makes arrangements. But he’s really a composer.”
“How nice,” said Miss Withers a bit absently. “Musicians and artists—aren’t they supposed to be the jealous type? Do you suppose there could possibly be the shade of a jealousy motive here?”
Janet laughed out loud. “Heavens, no! Do I look like a femme fatale ?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Miss Withers. “Never having for obvious reasons been accused of it myself.” But all the same, the schoolteacher was wondering a little; there was something about this long tall blond girl which could perhaps have been very disturbing to the right man—or the wrong one. “Your fiancé works here at the studio?” she pressed.
“Guy? Why, yes, when he works. He’s a song writer, and going to be one of the best. He wrote Lullaby for a Pink Elephant , a wonderful novelty number that’s just been published in New York! This music arrangement thing he’s doing here is fairly new to him, but he’s always fooled around with the piano. He played at the boardinghouse when he didn’t know anybody was listening, and I grabbed hold of him and introduced him to Mr. Karas, who gave him a job. Believe you me—” She smiled, her eyes clear and confident. “Somebody just had to take over that boy and straighten him out; he has so much talent and ability. This music arrangement thing is just for now. Guy’s finished two new songs, Flitterbug Jump and Lady Bewitched , and when they come out—” her face was lighted up like a neon sign—“Guy is really going places. His publishers say he’s going to be another Cole Porter!”
“‘I know where I’m going, and I know who’s going with me …’” Miss Withers softly hummed the old Scottish ballad. “How nice for you, my dear. Tell me, Miss Poole, just between us girls, what was in your poison-pen valentine to make you tear it up?”
Janet set her firm chin. “I—I couldn’t!”
“You must . And I promise it won’t go any further.”
“It—it was just something dirty and unfair! It brought up my one dark secret. You see, years ago when I was an art student at Otis here in Los Angeles I had to work most of my way. My father is a steam fitter down in Long Beach and he couldn’t always pay the rent on time at home and buy the groceries, much less help me in what I laughingly called my career. If you must know, I—I did some posing for the life classes at art school, that’s all. In the nude.” She swallowed. “I thought I’d lived it down, but—”
“It has never seemed to me,” interposed the schoolteacher, “that there is anything evil about the human body—especially a body like yours—unless thinking makes it so. It shouldn’t make any difference to your young man—”
“It didn’t!” Janet
“Larry was the nicest and most exciting of the lot, in most ways. But his divorce wasn’t final then and I didn’t want to get serious about a man who was at least technically married. We went dancing to Mocambo and Ciro’s and places like that, but before the thing got really final—” The girl hesitated.
“Yes—” prompted Miss Withers.
“Before his divorce got final, something happened,” said Janet a bit dreamily. “But you must understand; we all stayed friends.”
“Somebody didn’t stay just friends,” observed Miss Withers, nodding toward the diamond on Janet’s ring finger.
A warmish, crooked, little-girl smile illumined Jan’s face. “Guy,” she said softly. “All this I’m telling you about happened before Guy came to stay at my boardinghouse. He was a piano guy, a crazy mixed-up kid as they say, but there was a piano in the place and I heard him play and suddenly I woke up and there I was—engaged to be married. It’s going to be this summer.”
“You are referring to the musician, I gather?”
“Guy? Yes, he plays the piano and makes arrangements. But he’s really a composer.”
“How nice,” said Miss Withers a bit absently. “Musicians and artists—aren’t they supposed to be the jealous type? Do you suppose there could possibly be the shade of a jealousy motive here?”
Janet laughed out loud. “Heavens, no! Do I look like a femme fatale ?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Miss Withers. “Never having for obvious reasons been accused of it myself.” But all the same, the schoolteacher was wondering a little; there was something about this long tall blond girl which could perhaps have been very disturbing to the right man—or the wrong one. “Your fiancé works here at the studio?” she pressed.
“Guy? Why, yes, when he works. He’s a song writer, and going to be one of the best. He wrote Lullaby for a Pink Elephant , a wonderful novelty number that’s just been published in New York! This music arrangement thing he’s doing here is fairly new to him, but he’s always fooled around with the piano. He played at the boardinghouse when he didn’t know anybody was listening, and I grabbed hold of him and introduced him to Mr. Karas, who gave him a job. Believe you me—” She smiled, her eyes clear and confident. “Somebody just had to take over that boy and straighten him out; he has so much talent and ability. This music arrangement thing is just for now. Guy’s finished two new songs, Flitterbug Jump and Lady Bewitched , and when they come out—” her face was lighted up like a neon sign—“Guy is really going places. His publishers say he’s going to be another Cole Porter!”
“‘I know where I’m going, and I know who’s going with me …’” Miss Withers softly hummed the old Scottish ballad. “How nice for you, my dear. Tell me, Miss Poole, just between us girls, what was in your poison-pen valentine to make you tear it up?”
Janet set her firm chin. “I—I couldn’t!”
“You must . And I promise it won’t go any further.”
“It—it was just something dirty and unfair! It brought up my one dark secret. You see, years ago when I was an art student at Otis here in Los Angeles I had to work most of my way. My father is a steam fitter down in Long Beach and he couldn’t always pay the rent on time at home and buy the groceries, much less help me in what I laughingly called my career. If you must know, I—I did some posing for the life classes at art school, that’s all. In the nude.” She swallowed. “I thought I’d lived it down, but—”
“It has never seemed to me,” interposed the schoolteacher, “that there is anything evil about the human body—especially a body like yours—unless thinking makes it so. It shouldn’t make any difference to your young man—”
“It didn’t!” Janet
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