To The Last Man
It must be burst or break. Relentlessly memory pursued Ellen and her thoughts whirled and emotion conquered her. At last she quivered up to her knees as if lashed to action. It seemed that first kiss of Isbel's, cool and gentle and timid, was on her lips. And her eyes closed and hot tears welled under her lids. Her groping hands found only the dead twigs and the pine boughs of the trees. Had she reached out to clasp him? Then hard and violent on her mouth and cheek and neck burned those other kisses of Isbel's, and with the flashing, stinging memory came the truth that now she would have bartered her soul for them. Utterly she surrendered to the resistlessness of this love. Her loss of mother and friends, her wandering from one wild place to another, her lonely life among bold and rough men, had developed for violent love. It overthrew all pride, it engendered humility, it killed hate. Ellen wiped the tears from her eyes, and as she knelt there she swept to her breast a fragrant spreading bough of pine needles. "I'll go to him," she whispered. "I'll tell him - of my - my love. I'll tell him to take me away -away to the end of the world - away from heah (sic) - before it's too late!"
It was a solemn, beautiful moment. But the last spoken words lingered hauntingly. "Too late?" she whispered.
And suddenly it seemed death itself shuddered in her soul. Too late! It was too late. She had killed his love. That Jorth blood in her -- that poisonous hate -- had chosen the only way to strike this noble Isbel to the heart. Basely, with an abandonment of womanhood, she mockingly perjured her soul with a vile lie. She writhed, she shook under the whip of the inconceivable fact. Lost! Lost! She wailed her misery. She might as well be what she had made Jean Isbel think she was. If she had shamed before, she was now abased, degraded, lost in her own sight. And if she would have given her soul for his kisses, she now would have killed herself to earn back his respect. Jean Isbel had given her at sight the deference.
Don't fail to see this great Paramount picturization of Zane Grey's novel "To The Last Man," produced under the personal direction of the author in the Tonto Basin, the exact locale of the book.
The inside description (provided right) borrowed a passage from the book and
used a great photo of Lois Wilson looking out over the Tonto Basin in Arizona.
US One Sheet
Title Lobby Card
Gaston Isbel, Arizona ranchman, accuses his enemy Lee Jorth of stealing his cattle.
Jorth is supposed to be a sheepraiser, but has collected a bad gang around him
in the camp where he lives with his daughter Ellen.
