Summary
A gilded cage of silk and scandal snaps shut around Sylvia Landis, whose calculating heart has already pawned itself to the highest bidder—Quarrier, a man whose fortune reeks of copper mines and moral rust. Into this auction of affections staggers Stephen Siward, a soul marinated in bourbon and self-loathing, his trembling hands the only honest thing in a city that trades vows like stock options. Their collision is no meet-cute but a slow-motion derailment: her diamond-chilled gaze melts against the heat of his relapse, and suddenly the arithmetic of opportunism collapses. Between detox hallucinations and moonlit confessions on rooftop gardens, Stephen wrestles the hydra of dependency while Sylvia learns that love—raw, unpaid, unprofitable—can feel like swallowing barbed wire coated in honey. Meanwhile Plank, Stephen’s loyal human flotation device, courts the ethereal Leila Mortimer, herself shackled to a blackmailing spouse whose grin is a cracked mirror of Quarrier’s own rapacity. One champagne-soaked evening at the Clairmont—peacock wallpaper sweating with tension—the two couples’ futures are crosshatched by gunfire: Mortimer’s bullet drills Quarrier’s lung, Quarrier’s dying reflex plugs Mortimer’s heart, and the parquet drinks their mingled blood like a sacrament. In the echo of that twin report, the last chains of social expectation shatter; the survivors step over the corpses of both men and their own former selves, blinking into dawn that feels suspiciously like absolution.
Synopsis
Sylvia Landis promises to marry the wealthy but unprincipled Quarrier because of his social standing. Avarice is the only emotion that Sylvia feels towards her fiance, and when she meets Stephen Siward, a young man afflicted with alcoholism, she falls in love. With the aid of his friend Plank, Stephen fights bravely to cure himself. Plank is enamored of Leila Mortimer, whose husband is trying to blackmail Stephen and extort money from Quarrier. While the two star-crossed couples are dining at a hotel, Quarrier informs Mortimer that Plank is attempting to steal his wife. The two men rush to the hotel where they quarrel, and the drunken Mortimer shoots Quarrier. The dying Quarrier then picks up the revolver and shoots his assailant, thus clearing the path for the marriage of the two sets of lovers.
Review Excerpt
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The celluloid gods were feeling particularly sardonic the year Robert W. Chambers and Will M. Ritchey stitched The Fighting Chance together. What emerges is less a love triangle than a love pentagram—each point drawing blood. Sylvia Landis, incarnated by Maude Wayne with the porcelain poise of a mannequin who has read Balzac in secret, enters the frame already commodified: her engagement ring a handcuff forged from Quarrier’s gold mine dividends. Every close-up tilts ever so slightly upward, a..."
