ng!" exclaimed Miss Kearns.

"Ain't it?" said Merton. "How they can have one of those terrible things
on the same bill with Miss Baxter--I can't understand it."

"Those censors ought to suppress this sort of buffoonery instead of
scenes of dignified passion like they did in Scarlet Sin," declared
Tessie. "Did you read about that?"

"They sure ought," agreed Merton. "These comedies make me tired. I never
see one if I can help it."

Walking on, they discussed the wretched public taste and the wretched
actors that pandered to it. The slap-stick comedy, they held, degraded
a fine and beautiful art. Merton was especially severe. He always felt
uncomfortable at one of these regrettable exhibitions when people about
him who knew no better laughed heartily. He had never seen anything to
laugh at, and said as much.

They crossed the street and paused at the door of Miss Kearns' shop,
behind which were her living rooms. She would to-night go over Passion's
Perils once more and send it to another company.

"I wonder," she said to Merton, "if they keep sending it back because
the sets are too expensive. Of course there's the one where the
dissipated English nobleman, Count Blessingham, lures Valerie into
Westminster Abbey for his own evil purposes on the night of the old
earl's murder--that's expensive--but they get a chance to use it again
when Valerie is led to the altar by young Lord Stonecliff, the rightful
heir. And of course Stonecliff Manor, where Valerie is first seen as
governess, would be expensive; but they use that in a lot of scenes,
too. Still, maybe I might change the locations around to something
they've got built."

"I wouldn't change a line," said Merton. "Don't give in to 'em. Make 'em
take it as it is. They might ruin your picture with cheap stuff."

"Well," the authoress debated, "maybe I'll leave it. I'd especially
hate to give up Westminster Abbey. Of course the scene where she is
struggling with Count Blessingham might easily be made offensive--it's a
strong scene--but it all comes right. You remember she wrenches herself
loose from his grasp and rushes to throw herself before the altar, which
suddenly lights up, and the scoundrel is afraid to pursue her there,
because he had a thorough religious training when a boy at Oxford, and
he feels it would be sacrilegious to seize her again while the light
from the altar shines upon her that way, and so she's saved for the
time being. It seems kind of a sha