Eve by James Hadley Chase

down to the dining room to find Russell waiting to serve breakfast. It was now ten days since I had seen Carol and I knew that Russell was worried about this. I could tell that by his continuous disapproving looks.
    “You might put a call through to Miss Carol,” I said, as I flipped through my letters, “and see what she’s doing. If she’s at home I’ll speak to her.”
    While he was making the call, I glanced at the headlines of the newspaper. There was nothing there to interest me and I dropped the paper on the floor.
    Russell, after murmuring into the telephone, hung up and shook his head. “She’s out, sir,” he said, his round, fat face sagging with gloom. “Why don’t you slip down to the Studio and see her?
    “I’m too busy to slip down to the Studio,” I said shortly, “And what business is it of yours anyway?”
    He stood opposite me, moving the toast within my reach. “Miss Carol’s a nice young lady,” he said, “and I don’t like to see her treated badly, Mr. Clive.”
    “So you think I’m treating Miss Carol badly, do you?” I said, spreading butter on my toast and avoiding his disapproving glance.
    “I do, sir. I think you should see her. She’s a nice young lady and she deserves to receive better treatment than the other young ladies you know.”
    “You are poking your nose as usual into something that does not concern you. Miss Carol is extremely busy and has no time at the moment to be sociable. I’m not neglecting her and, if you will remember, I call her twice a day and have been doing so for the past two weeks.”
    “Then, all I can say, sir, is she’s avoiding you,” he returned obstinately. “You shouldn’t allow it.”
    “I think you’d better do my bedroom now, Russell,” I said coldly. “I have everything I want at the moment.
    “This Miss Marlow, sir,” he said, “She’s a professional lady, isn’t she?”
    I stared at him in amazement. “And how did you know that?”
    An almost pious look settled on his face. “Being a gentleman’s man, sir,” he said, a little pompously, “I feel it is part of my duties to know something of the worldly aspects of life. The name, sir, if I may presume, is a little obvious.”
    “You think so, do you?” I said, trying not to smile. “And what if she is?”
    His bushy white eyebrows crawled to the top of his head. “I can only warn you, Mr. Clive. That sort of woman never did anyone any good. And if I may say so, any attempt to establish a social relationship with her would be fraught with disaster.”
    “Do stop talking like a drip and get upstairs,” I said, feeling this had gone far enough. “I am meeting Miss Marlow to get a background for a picture. Mr. Gold’s commissioned me to write it.”
    “I’m surprised to hear that, sir. I always understood Mr. Gold was a person of intelligence. No one in his right senses would consider making a picture in connection with that subject. If you will excuse me, I will do your room.”
    I watched his dignified exit rather thoughtfully. On the face of it, he was right, yet Gold had definitely promised to do the story. I picked up my letters again and opened them, hopefully looking for a letter from the Studio. It was not here and I realized it was perhaps a little early to expect it I went over to my desk and checked my bank balance. I was surprised to find it so low. After a moment’s hesitation, I tossed the bills into the trash basket. They would have to wait for payment Then I called Merle Bensinger, my agent.
    “Look, Merle,” I said, as soon as she came on the line, “what’s happening to “Rain Check”? I haven’t had this week’s receipts.
    “I was writing to you about that, Clive,” she returned. Merle had a bright metallic voice which I always found a little overpowering on the telephone. “The cast has been given a week off. I think they deserve it, the poor dears. They’ve been at it now for twenty weeks.”
    “So while they disport themselves,