Sumptuous1 gifts from producers to stars, and from agents to producers arrived at offices and studio bungalows2: on every stage one heard of the roguish gifts of casts to directors or directors to casts; champagne3 had gone out from publicity4 office to the press. And tips of fifties, tens and fives from producers, directors and writers fell like manna upon the white collar class.
In this sort of transaction there were exceptions. Pat Hobby, for example, who knew the game from twenty years’ experience, had had the idea of getting rid of his secretary the day before. They were sending over a new one any minute — but she would scarcely expect a present the first day.
Waiting for her, he walked the corridor, glancing into open offices for signs of life. He stopped to chat with Joe Hopper from the scenario5 department.
‘Not like the old days,’ he mourned, ‘Then there was a bottle on every desk.’
‘There’re a few around.’
‘Not many.’ Pat sighed. ‘And afterwards we’d run a picture — made up out of cutting-room scraps6.’
‘I’ve heard. All the suppressed stuff,’ said Hopper.
Pat nodded, his eyes glistening7.
‘Oh, it was juicy. You darned near ripped your guts8 laughing —’
He broke off as the sight of a woman, pad in hand, entering his office down the hall recalled him to the sorry present.
‘Gooddorf has me working over the holiday,’ he complained bitterly.
‘I wouldn’t do it.’
‘I wouldn’t either except my four weeks are up next Friday, and if I bucked9 him he wouldn’t extend me.’
As he turned away Hopper knew that Pat was not being extended anyhow. He had been hired to script an old-fashioned horse-opera and the boys who were ‘writing behind him’— that is working over his stuff — said that all of it was old and some didn’t make sense.
‘I’m Miss Kagle,’ said Pat’s new secretary.
She was about thirty-six, handsome, faded, tired, efficient. She went to the typewriter, examined it, sat down and burst into sobs11.
Pat started. Self-control, from below anyhow, was the rule around here. Wasn’t it bad enough to be working on Christmas Eve? Well — less bad than not working at all. He walked over and shut the door — someone might suspect him of insulting the girl.
‘Cheer up,’ he advised her. ‘This is Christmas.’
Her burst of emotion had died away. She sat upright now, choking and wiping her eyes.
‘Nothing’s as bad as it seems,’ he assured her unconvincingly. ‘What’s it, anyhow? They going to lay you off?’
She shook her head, did a sniffle to end sniffles, and opened her note book.
‘Who you been working for?’
She answered between suddenly gritted12 teeth.
‘Mr Harry13 Gooddorf.’
Pat widened his permanently14 bloodshot eyes. Now he remembered he had seen her in Harry’s outer office,
‘Since 1921. Eighteen years. And yesterday he sent me back to the department. He said I depressed15 him — I reminded him he was getting on.’ Her face was grim. ‘That isn’t the way he talked after hours eighteen years ago.’
‘Yeah, he was a skirt chaser then,’ said Pat.
‘I should have done something then when I had the chance.’
Pat felt righteous stirrings.
‘Breach16 of promise? That’s no angle!’
‘But I had something to clinch17 it. Something bigger than breach of promise. I still have too. But then, you see, I thought I was in love with him.’ She brooded for a moment. ‘Do you want to dictate18 something now?’
Pat remembered his job and opened a script.
‘It’s an insert,’ he began, ‘Scene 114A.’
Pat paced the office.
‘Ext. Long Shot of the Plains,’ he decreed. ‘Buck10 and Mexicans approaching the hyacenda.’
‘The what?’
‘The hyacenda — the ranch19 house.’ He looked at her reproachfully, ‘114 B. Two Shot: Buck and Pedro. Buck: “The dirty son-of-a-bitch. I’ll tear his guts out!"’
Miss Kagle looked up, startled.
‘You want me to write that down?’
‘Sure.’
‘It won’t get by.’
‘I’m writing this. Of course, it won’t get by. But if I put “you rat” the scene won’t have any force.’
‘But won’t somebody have to change it to “you rat”?’
He glared at her — he didn’t want to change secretaries every day.
‘Harry Gooddorf can worry about that.’
‘Are you working for Mr Gooddorf?’ Miss Kagle asked in alarm.
‘Until he throws me out.’
‘I shouldn’t have said —’
‘Don’t worry,’ he assured her. ‘He’s no pal20 of mine anymore. Not at three-fifty a week, when I used to get two thousand. .. Where was I?’
He paced the floor again, repeating his last line aloud with relish21. But now it seemed to apply not to a personage of the story but to Harry Gooddorf. Suddenly he stood still, lost in thought. ‘Say, what is it you got on him? You know where the body is buried?’
‘That’s too true to be funny.’
‘He knock somebody off?’
‘Mr Hobby, I’m sorry I ever opened my mouth.’
‘Just call me Pat. What’s your first name?’
‘Helen.’
‘Married?’
‘Not now.’
‘Well, listen Helen: What do you say we have dinner?’
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收听单词发音
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1
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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2
bungalows
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| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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scenario
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| n.剧本，脚本；概要 | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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bucked
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| adj.快v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的过去式和过去分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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permanently
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| adv.永恒地，永久地，固定不变地 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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clinch
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| v.敲弯，钉牢；确定；扭住对方 [参]clench | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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20
pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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