"Gimme!" she said fiercely.
"Trollop!" exclaimed Peter.
The glory of her flamed in him. With magnificent nonchalance, he grasped the frail net that shrouded her shoulders, ripped it to shreds, and cocked an appraising eye at the pale, smooth skin. Rhythm beat in their ears. The surf surged and ebbed.
"Love me, Peter?" whispered Judy . . .
A question of about the same importance now confronts the world of letters: Who wrote the novel that contains this gooey hooey? Jean Harlow wrote it, with the help of an M-G-M journeyman. Completed before Harlow's death,...