The moon's our home

Only an actress completely absorbed in herself could ahve missed hearing of Anthony Amberton, the explorer-writer all the women in America adored. Cherry Chester was just such an actress. Only an adventurer who had spent his life traveling to have adventures could have missed seeing Cherry Chester on the stage, the screen, and in the magazines. Amberton was just such a man. Only these two could have met without recognition and could have fallen in love without the glitter of fame outshining the glow of love. And, of course, their love couldn't last. Or could it?