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him.
    “What’s the use, Peter? You know me. I can’t work for anyone. From what Carol tells me working at your Studio is refined hell.”
    “It’s also big money,” Peter said, taking the drink I handed to him. “Think it over and don’t leave it too long. The public has a short memory and Hollywood an even shorter one.” He didn’t look at me, but I had a feeling that there was more to it than just casual conversation. It was almost a warning.
    I lit a cigarette and brooded. There is one thing you don’t tell other writers or producers in Hollywood. You don’t tell them that you are out of ideas. They find that out quick enough for themselves.
    I knew that if I went back to Three Point the same thing would happen as had happened these past two days. I’d think about Eve. I hadn’t stopped thinking about her since I found myself lying on the floor in the deserted cabin with the sun coming through the curtains. I had tried to wash her out of my mind, but I couldn’t do it. She was there in my bedroom, she was sitting with me on the porch, she was staring at me from the blank sheet of paper in my typewriter.
    It finally got so bad that I had to talk to someone about her. That was why I had come into Hollywood to see Carol. But when I began to talk, I found I couldn’t tell her the things that were really on my mind. I couldn’t tell Peter either. I couldn’t tell them how I was feeling about Eve. They would have thought I was crazy.
    Maybe I was crazy. I had the pick of some twenty smart, attractive women. I had Carol who loved me and who meant a lot to me. But that didn’t seem enough for me. I had to become infatuated with a prostitute.
    Perhaps, infatuated wasn’t the right word. I had sat on the porch, the previous night, with a bottle of Scotch at my elbow and I had tried to reason it out. Eve had hurt my pride. Her cold indifference had been a challenge to me. I felt she was living in a stone fortress and I had to storm that fortress and break down its walls.
    I was pretty drunk by the time I’d come to these conclusions, but I’d made up my mind I was going to conquer her. All the women I’d played around with in the past had been too easy. I wanted a proposition that I could really get my teeth into. Eve would give me a run. She’d be difficult and the idea excited me. It would be a contest with no holds barred. She wasn’t an innocent little thing who could be twisted around my finger without any effort. She had unconsciously thrown down the challenge and I was going to take it up. I had no doubts what the final results would be. Nor did I think of what would happen once I’d taken her by storm. That could take care of itself when the time came.
    I snapped out of my thoughts as Carol came in. She had changed into an ice-blue evening dress over which she wore a short ermine coat.
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said, jumping to my feet. “I’m terribly glad and proud of you, Carol.”
    She looked at me searching. “It is exciting, isn’t it, Clive? Won’t you come now . . . we ought to celebrate.”
    I wanted to, but I had something more important to do. If we’d been alone, I’d have gone with her, but with Peter, it wasn’t quite the same thing.
    “I’ll join you later if I can,” I said. “Where are you eating?”
    “The Vine Street Brown Derby,” Peter said. “How long will you be?”
    “It depends,” I said. “Anyway, if I don’t turn up, I’ll meet you both here after dinner . . . all right?”
    Carol put her hand in mind. “It’ll have to be,” she said. “You will try, won’t you?”
    Peter got up. “Well, then, let’s go. Are you coming our way?”
    “I promised to meet my publisher at eight,” I explained. It was only half past seven. “Do you mind if I stay here for a few minutes? I’d like to finish my drink and I have some calls to make.”
    “No . . . come on, Peter, we mustn’t interfere with business.” Carol waved to me. “Then we’ll see