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Near the cameras a man with horn-rim spectacles sat in a canvas chair, a manuscript in his hand. Scattered about were a dozen men and women, poised tensely, as if they were afraid to move a muscle. To the left was the orchestra, a violin, 'cello and bass viol. Why, thought John, do bass viol players always have that far-away, woebegone look on their faces as they saw at their instruments?
Coat and waistcoat had been removed, as he discriminatingly applied the dry cosmetics with skill which suggested that he had disguised himself for daylight purposes far more than he would admit. By the time he had powdered his thick locks with the white pulverized chalk, and donned a pair of horn-rim glasses of amber tint, his whole personality had changed.
She turned to the man with the horn-rim spectacles. "That is all?" she inquired. "All for today, Miss Carrillo, thank you," she was answered. "Tomorrow at 2, same costume, but on the other set." "Come," she said, turning to John. "We'll have tea and a talk as soon as I return to to normalcy that was Mr. Harding's way of expressing it, wasn't it?"
She wore an evening gown and her hair was arranged in a high coiffure that made her look taller, older. "Cut!" commanded the man in the horn-rim glasses. "That was splendid, Miss Carrillo, splendid." The cameras stopped grinding. Consuello rose laughing. The orchestra stopped abruptly. She came toward them, touching lightly at her cheeks with a tiny handkerchief.
She led him to the first automobile in the line. In the front seat, beside the driver, was the man with the horn-rim glasses whom John recognized as her director. They took seats in the tonneau and he shook hands with the director whom Consuello introduced as "Mr. Bonwit." Heading the caravan of machines their car started out of the driveway. "I wanted Reggie Mr.
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