would have no moral support whatever, a reflection which convinced him that if further efforts were made to enlist his services in the ranks of the cinema he would lack the resolution to longer fight. The worst of it was that he now believed that any one of his friends would take exactly the same stand that Jack had taken. He must seem absolutely a fool to refuse to accept the amount of money that had been offered him.
He had one consolation, it came to him at last. He remembered that he was in a haven, hundreds of miles from the spot where playwrights were seduced to become prostitutes for the motion pictures. Unless Jack nagged him—and he suspected it was not in Jack's nature to do this—he could live here very happily for a time. No one could do anything about him, after all. No one, as a matter of fact, knew his whereabouts. To avoid furnishing a clue he would not send for his bags at present. If he purchased a few necessities, he could easily do without his suitcases in this out-of-the-way place. Consoled by this train of reasoning he was able to fall into a refreshing sleep.
In the morning his peace of mind received further support. Jack refrained from any reference to the unwelcome subject, chatting at breakfast about his col-
