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"I have a great favor to ask of you, monsieur." "Of me?" She drew M. de Valorsay's letter from her pocket, and, showing it to the photographer, she said, "I have come to you, monsieur, to ask you to photograph this letter but at once before me and quickly very quickly. The honor of two persons is imperilled by each moment I lose here." Mademoiselle Marguerite's embarrassment was extreme.
And then they all went back to the office, and there was the photographer waiting with all his apparatus, and astonished enough he was when he found out what the job was that he had to do. However, the task proved an easy one enough, as the light of the room was suitable, and the dark lines of cuttle ink upon Augusta's neck would, the man said, come out perfectly in the photograph.
"And it is very useful for us, too," remarked Hillyard. "The photographer is a friend of mine." José was still gazing at the photograph. "Such a brain, my friend! She never told a story the second time differently, however emotional the moment. She never gave away a secret." "She probably didn't know any," said Hillyard. But José would not hear of such a reason. "Oh, yes! She has great influence.
I had made out by the flashlight possibilities my companions little dreamed of. I hired a professional photographer next whom I found in dire straits. He was even less willing to get up at 2 A.M. than my friends who had a good excuse. He had none, for I paid him well. He repaid me by trying to sell my photographs behind my back. I had to replevin the negatives to get them away from him.
On the way the guard who had taken our photograph showed us the proof of it, and told us he would send us one, and had us write down our addresses. He must have been a photographer in civil life, for he had many splendid pictures with him, and entertained us by showing them to us.
Certainly it is true that such photographs might be obtained by means of double exposure, double printing and other devices; but the point is that we have the word of an expert photographer that they were not produced in this manner; and when once their genuine character is admitted, they assume very great interest, no matter what view we may care to take as to the results.
With Benton, the photographer, who performed his jig dance to the rhythm of "Gunga Din" when he was told he faced another adventure, Brennan and John were in Gibson's office before 10 o'clock the next morning. They found Gibson alone in his inner office.
She was a small woman; and her pretty curling hair and far-away dreaming eyes, and her way of becoming occupied in what interested her until she forgot everything else for the time, all these I first began to see and understand as I gazed after her retreating figure. Mrs. Stowe's personal appearance has received scant justice and no mercy at the hand of the photographer.
And it happened that they both lost their places at the same time. Blake's uncle decided to retire to a Home for the Aged, and Mr. Bradley said he could no longer afford to pay Joe any wages. The boys did not know what to do until they made the acquaintance of Mr. Calvert Hadley, a moving picture photographer.
Some of the best of the William S. Hart productions show appreciation of this quality by the director, the photographer, and the public. Not only is the man but the horse allowed to be moving bronze, and not mere cowboy pasteboard. Many of the pictures of Charles Ray make the hero quite a bronze-looking sculpturesque person, despite his yokel raiment.
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