"It is what we call a 'retake,'" she said. "The scenes we will do today
were done several weeks ago, but the photography did not satisfy Mr.
Bonwit. We will do them over again, resurrecting the sweetheart you saw
me mourning so sadly for back on the interior set. They are the scenes
in which he asks me to marry him and in which I plight my troth, as the
title writer insists upon describing it."

"Perhaps that's why Mr. Gibson isn't with us," suggested John.

"It may be," she laughed. "He saw the original scenes played and
pretended to be madly jealous of the leading man."

The "location" on which the cameras were trained for the scenes enacted
by Consuello was idealistic as an outdoor setting. Shasta daisies,
primroses and stalks of purple and white larkspur, in riotous profusion,
gave splotches of bright color that stood out vividly against the bosky
green. Stately, restful trees gave bounteous shade. A brook, tumbling
down the hillside, gurgled over clean, white stones and sand.

There was a lengthy conference between the photographers and Bonwit, the
director, relative to the light effects. Oblongs of white cloth tacked
on a wood framework, which John learned were used to reflect and deflect
the sun's rays, were shifted from one spot to another and back again
until the camera men were completely satisfied.

The sad-eyed bass viol player with his companions, the violinist and
the 'cellist, occupied folding chairs several yards to the right of the
cameras, where they were protected from the sun in the shade of a tree.
"John J. Silence," whom John discovered was an assistant director, made
countless trips to and from the automobiles for things that everyone
seemed to have forgotten and left in the machines.

John had never seen such precaution exercised. It was fully an hour
before Consuello and her sweetheart in the photoplay began rehearsing.
He was a young fellow, with smooth black hair that John considered
almost as perfect as that of Gibson, which had irritated him when he
first met the police commissioner. And, as John had also thought of
Gibson, the actor playing opposite Consuello was too immaculate.

First, Consuello and the actor came slowly toward the cameras, hand in
hand, a typical pair of straying lovers, so affected by each other's
presence that they spoke only with their eyes, sidelong glances of
ardent devotion. Then they stood still, facing each other, their
profiles toward the cameras, he holdin