No! No! Lawrence responded in a tone of disgust. You don't get me at all. Let you out! I should say not. He wanted to know what other ideas you had handy. I had to do some pretty presto thinking, but I managed to tell him the other story you outlined to me.
The other . . . ?
Sure. Don't you remember? The one about the circus. Auburn is in love with a ceiling-walker, a human fly, and a clown's in love with her. The villain is the ring-master.
But I never . . .
Of course you did. Griesheimer swallowed the conte the way a boa constrictor swallows a rabbit, i.e., whole. I'm working on the continuity.
But Lawrence, this is your story. I refuse to accept credit for it. This lets me out, cried Ambrose, obviously pleased with this solution.
My story. Banana oil! Anybody's story. Everybody's story. The central theme has been used in pictures fifty times. Say, Deacon, get me straight. They wouldn't accept this hokum from me. I'm too unimportant. I'm nobody. But Griesheimer thinks it's sure fire with your name attached to it, and with Hallam directing and Auburn Six starring it will be a wow. If I'm your confidential man and write the continuity
