That day she shoved off. Lacking the fare, she thumbed her way. She had no difficulty flagging rides. For Mary, as we've told you, is a beaut. She has soft brown hair and a figure curved in the right places to accentuate all her loveliness—all 118 pounds and five-feet-five of it.
So she had no difficulty finding work here, as a model by day and as a photo girl in the Grill Room of the Hotel Roosevelt at night.
Into the Grill one night came Pasternak and his own lovely wife, accepting an invitation extended by Guy Lombardo, maestro at the spot.
Miss Stuart, hotly hoping she'd be seen by a Hollywood mogul, had been fired from the photo concession the day before.
But Destiny hadn't been; it was still working.
Through the voice of one of the musicians in Lombardo's band, whom she knew well, Destiny whispered to her that Pasternak had a reservation for that evening.
For a few bucks, Mary fixed it up with another photo girl and paraded past the Pasternaks with the camera.
Mrs. Pasternak saw Mary first, remarked about her beauty to Joe.
Mary, near their table, began to hum in tune to the music.