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1951_05_26--025_SP [Petticoat Empire]

98 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST May 26, 1951 NOW for dream-come-true rooms ../"1 . . . stay-like-new rooms . . . it's Du Pont DUCO Enamel PEG. U. S. PAT. OFF. .11 DUCO Colors shown: Primrose Yellow, French Blue, Ivory and White Gloss; Damask Rose Sorrel-Gloss. Decorations in the Peter Hunt "Transformagic" manner. Ask your Du Pont Paint dealer about the 40- page illustrated booklet "Transformagic by Du Pont," or send 250 to Du Pont Co., Dept. S-26, Wilmington, Del. (Offer good only in U. S. A.I Your choice—new DUCO Semi-Gloss or famous DUCO Gloss Now, get that "Show-Place Look" in all your rooms—living room, kitchen, bedroom, bath—with durable Du Pont DUCO Enamel. New DUCO Semi-Gloss produces a rich, velvet finish that lasts for years on walls or woodwork. Or, if you like a sparkling, tile-like finish for furniture, kitchen and bathroom walls, and woodwork throughout your home, the perfect enamel is famous, long-wearing DUCO Gloss. Anywhere, everywhere . . . a Du Pont DUCO finish has what it takes — in washability, durability, mar-resistance. Pick just the color you want from a glorious selection—including popular pastel , shades and stunning modern deep tones. Ask your Du Pont Paint dealer about DUCO Enamel today! F. , very szinceKe./ u s •AT.OrE BETTER THINGS FOR BETTER LIVING PAINTS 1- eve"-, pt/'pose CHEMISTRY st. Llry ago ../ Et*a was-49e/e/ £8foe9.5./ "A„, thing Aou need while we're here? Razor blades? Pipe cleaners?" TAR SATURDAY EVENING POST (Continued from Page 96) another, and another. Her hands burned with a crimson heat. Her arms weighed a dead ton. She rinsed the sponge in clear water and wiped the space clean. The wall was free from dirt . . . and paint too. " Cut," Kolski said briskly. " Next setup." She got down and collapsed into a chair. Someone threw her a house dress of a hideous pattern and she staggered into her office to change. She came back to wash and dry a stack of dishes. She did the dishes five times, smiling. She scoured a sink eight times, still smiling. She got down on her knees to pray for deliverance and smilingly scrub a floor. Each time she finished she was certain it was right, and each time Joe said, "Once more," and she hated him all over again. "If you say 'Once more' once more, I'll scream!" she screamed. Joe caught the scrub brush aimed at his head. "Get it out of your system and take it again," he said patiently. She was only dimly aware, two hours later, of the scene ending and Joe lifting her to her feet. "Shampoo scene," he said, shaking her into consciousness. "Not me. I'm starving." A nice lunch with Zwinnick and Conners would be good for customer relations. It would help her forget the indignities heaped upon her by Simon Legree Frane. "Shampoo scene," Joe repeated. "Do it right and we'll knock off for lunch." She did it right . . . or else Joe was going blind. She put in two pin curls and giggled into the mirror above the washbowl. Now she was getting silly. A hairdresser finished the curls and put her under a drier in her office. A few minutes later Carol appeared with a sandwich and a bottle of milk. "Mr. Frane sent these," she said. "You may tell him for me," Nathalie returned, "that I always lunch with our customers." "Oh, they've gone. Mr. Frane took them somewhere in a cab. He had me call Patsy to do the hand modeling. He said your hands weren't — well " Weren't what? Nathalie looked at her hands. Red. Swollen. Peeling like two scalded tomatoes. "Give me that sandwich and the hand oil," she said savagely, "and latch the door when you go out. I'm in conference." It wasn't enough that he had kidnaped the customers for lunch. He had crowned his perfidy by calling in someone else to do the easy parts. He could have shot the hand scenes first, before she'd got mixed up with scrub buckets and dish pans. But no. Oh, no! He'd been saving the plums for Patsy all along. Under the hot breath of the drier, the sandwich tasted like cardboard. She chewed herself into a long, revengeful burn. They called her at half past three and she walked out to the set with mayhem in her heart. Patsy had gone, but her memory lingered on. Everyone, including Freshman Conners, was fiendish with ill-concealed delight. Kolski said, "Patsy wrapped that up in a hurry. What a girl!" "Swell, wasn't it?" Joe said. " One more shot and it's in the can. Bedroom setup." He glanced at Nathalie and the anemic young man with the cleft chin who was to play the uxorious husband. " You two got your lines?" They delivered, walking through their parts. Joe nodded approval, and shooting began. Near the end of a good performance she coughed and spoiled the take. Joe inquired if she needed a throat spray, and she replied sweetly that her throat was all right and she was terribly sorry. They took it again, and she hammed it to the skies, twisting her hips and making baby-talk into the camera. It was so bad that Kolski didn't even comment. Nathalie leaned against the frame of the bedroom door and gloated. Joe got up and came over. He was looking worried—the way he'd looked that morning. " What's the matter?" he asked. " Not a thing," she said innocently. " I thought it was fine." (Continued on Page 101)


1951_05_26--025_SP [Petticoat Empire]
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