Janet, barely interrupting the smooth flow of her story, nodded.
“Preview’s tonight at the Bijou after the regular feature. Curt Newsom stopped to tell us.”
“Then you’d better stop writing now. You’ve been at it steadily for more than hour. You want to feel peppy tonight when we go to see the preview.”
Janet finished the paragraph and pulled the sheet of copy from the machine. She had written eight pages and the top and bottom margins were narrow. She wanted to keep on writing, but knew that Helen’s advice was sound. She wanted to be rested enough to enjoy “Water Hole,” to see herself, for probably the only time in her life, as the leading lady of a motion picture.
They met Billy Fenstow at the box office and he handed them tickets for a few seats which had been reserved for his friends.
“Nervous?” he asked Janet.
“A little. How is it?”
“Wait and see. Here comes Mr. Rexler.”
The girls turned in time to see the taciturn general manager of the Ace studio stride into the lobby. Close behind him was Helen’s father. Janet felt her heart sink. Here was the chief of the studio on hand to pronounce final judgment on the picture. But Bill Fenstow seemed unperturbed and she forced herself to be calm.
They all went in together. The feature was a south sea love drama produced by a rival studio and it was typical program picture with nothing to make it outstanding in interest.