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1951_05_26--025_SP [Petticoat Empire]

1141 V EVENING 1.0ST THE SATURDAY EVENING POST COMMON IGNITION TROUBLES THE HEART OF YOUR ENGINE AGAINST RUST, MOISTURE, CORROSION Let your service dealer 1111711:1111te YOUR IGNITION I* SYSTEM v "Ignition insurance" for your car! "KRYLoN-izing" seals the whole system in a waterproof acrylic coating that protects each part against rust and corrosion ... prevents leakage of current and spark-plug shorting . . . lengthens battery life . . . assures quick starts, peak efficiency under all atmospheric conditions. First, your service man will clean the ignition system thoroughly. Then, with his can of special automotive Krylon Acrylic Spray, he'll seal battery terminals and cables. spark plugs, wiring, distributor head, ignition coil, starter and generator connections. He'll certify the job with the special "KRYLON-izing" PS, 1116 41.r..ast tag. "KRYLON-izing" is low in cost, takes just a few minutes. Look for the Krylon sign—get your car "KRYLON-ized" today! KRYLON, INC. 2601 N. Broad St., Philadelphia 32, Pa. Makers of WINDSHIELD SEALIII—it stops windshield leaks #ave your chrome oe bumpers, hubcaps, Aid qriile protected adrallsfreorrosioo with Advmotive ery/ol, /no! (Continued from Page 98) They took it again. She kept her hips at home, but she topped the young man's lines. The result was a conversational rat race. It was beautiful. Joe paid her another visit. "If I didn't know you were a trooper, I'd swear you were deliberately cue-biting. Your timing's all wrong. Look, Nat. When he says, ' Hi, dear,' count three before you answer, and when he —" She didn't hear the rest. " Look, Nat." Those words again. Those won- derful, wonderful words. Birds were singing madrigals inside her head and gaily colored flowers were springing up to cover the scars on her heart. "I'll go through it with you," he said, "so you'll get what I'm driving at." "Joe!" Zwinnick called. "Wait a minute. I've been thinking. The hus- band brings in the two presents, but he opens one, the bottle of Babyskin. The camera dollies to the bottle, the husband talks about it and we go on from there." "The idea," Joe countered smoothly, "is to bring in the Babyskin as a climax. It's more subtle, Mr. Zwinnick." Nathalie folded her arms and waited. Joe was right. No he-man would plop a bottle of anything—nectar, wine or Babyskin — into the middle of a scene of connubial bliss and make like a radio announcer. Zwinnick shot his finger at Joe. "I'm not interested in climaxes. It's advertising I'm after. The scene will play better my way." Joe said, "Then what do you say we shoot it both ways? You can see both versions and decide which you like best." Hurray for Joe, Nathalie thought. Spoken like a gentleman and a salesman. Zwinnick turned red. His neck swelled. " We'll take the one version, and we'll take it the way I want it!" "We will not!" Nathalie crossed the stage in three strides. " You listen to me, Ferd Zwinnick. That scene will be shot the way Joe wrote it or it won't be shot! You approved that script, so keep quiet and let us get on with it! If this job runs into overtime, you'll get a bill that will knock your hat off!" She found Joe beside her, and she put her hand on his arm to steady herself. Anger was fast giving way to sheer fright. "Do we shoot it or don't we?" she demanded. Zwinnick looked grim. Then, unaccountably, Conners threw back his head and brayed loudly. Laughing and choking, he said, " I guess we shoot it, Ferd." Zwinnick's face puckered into a grudging smile. "Yes, J. B. Yes, sir. I guess we do." "Now, Joe," Nathalie said, "if you'll show me the way you want it " "Good girl," Joe whispered. "I'll be right with you." He went into a huddle with Kolski while Nathalie took her station behind the bedroom door. She heard him coming into the hall. "Hi, dear!" he called. She counted three and opened the door. " Darling, you're home early. I've been so busy all day I'm not quite ready for the party." Spying the two packages: "Oh-h, presents!" "What do I get?" he asked. "This." She came into the hall and kissed him, her arms going around his neck. His hold tightened and he returned her kiss with astonishing fervor. That second kiss. It wasn't in the script. But good. Uxorious. This was really rehearsing! He handed her the larger package. "Put it on, will you? I want to see you in it . . . right now." She disappeared into the bedroom to make a quick change. She opened the door and stood before him in a pleatedchiffon negligee. He whistled as he walked into the bedroom, followed by the camera. "And the other package?" she said coyly. "The best I could get." She unwrapped a bottle of Babyskin and flew into his arms. She must remember not to say "uxorious." Zwinnick had changed it. "Babyskin! Oh, darling, just what I wanted. You're the most . . . loving husband a girl ever had." "Babyskin, h'm'm'm." He rubbed his cheek against hers. "Babyskin is right." He kissed her again, and this time her lips were not surprised. They were waiting, eager. She leaned against him and sighed ecstatically. The camera came in to a close-up of the bottle she clutched behind his back. Rehearsal was over. "Swell," he said, still holding on. "And all so darned impersonal." "Wonderful," she said. " Or would you rather rehearse with Patsy?" "What's she got to do with it? She's my sister-in-law. With three kids, she can't always get a sitter." He squeezed her hard. "She couldn't take it the way you've taken it today, believe me." A light went out. A wall of the bedroom started walking away. Dazed, she looked around. "They're striking the set! Tell them to wait. I've got to do it with that tailor's dummy." He smiled. " It's a take. He gets the money, but I get the gravy. After the way you handled Zwinnick, I knew you'd be great." "I'll bet I'm canned," she whispered, not caring at all. "Conners loves it. I corralled them for lunch, so I could get his blank check on the deal. He told Zwinnick he wouldn't allow him to spend a cent of his own money. You weren't sore, were you?" "What a silly notion! As if I could be . . . with you." " Get your clothes on and let's get out of here. I need a steak." She backed away from his unmistakable meaning. "Oh, no, you don't! I've had a hard day. I've scrubbed and slaved, and I'm not cooking any steaks tonight." "Tomorrow night . . . if you haven't any other plans?" She wanted to run to her mirror, to tell herself there were no other plans . not now. But she didn't move. The only mirror she needed was in his eyes. THE EN D


1951_05_26--025_SP [Petticoat Empire]
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