swept up with a broom.

The chagrined amusement of Harold Parmalee, the half-savage,
half-humorous tolerance for this perhaps excusable weakness of woman,
was here accurately manifested. The actor yawned slightly, lighted
another cigarette with flawless Parmalee technique, withdrew a
handkerchief from his sleeve-cuff, lightly touched his forehead with it,
and began to open the letters. He glanced at each one in a quick, bored
manner, and cast it aside.

When a dozen or so had been thus treated he was aroused by another
knock at the door. It opened to reveal the valet with another basket
overflowing with letters. Upon this the actor arose, spread his arms
wide in a gesture of humorous helplessness. He held this briefly, then
drooped in humorous despair.

He lighted another cigarette, eyed the letters with that whimsical lift
of the brows so characteristic of Parmalee, and lazily blew smoke toward
them. Then, regarding the smoke, he idly waved a hand through it. "Poor,
silly little girls!" But there was a charming tolerance in his manner.
One felt his generous recognition that they were not wholly without
provocation.

This appeared to close the simple episode. The scenes, to be sure, had
not been shot without delays and rehearsals, and a good two hours of
the morning had elapsed before the actor was released from the glare of
light and the need to remember that he was Harold Parmalee. His peeling
of an egg, for example, had not at first been dainty enough to please
the director, and the scene with the album had required many rehearsals
to secure the needed variety of expressions, but Baird had been helpful
in his promptings, and always kind.

"Now, this one you've turned over--it's someone you love better than
anybody. It might be your dear old mother that you haven't seen for
years. It makes you kind of solemn as you show how fond you were of her.
You're affected deeply by her face. That's it, fine! Now the next one,
you like it just as much, but it pleases you more. It's someone else
you're fond of, but you're not so solemn.

"Now turn over another, but very slow--slow--but don't let go of it.
Stop a minute and turn back as if you had to have another peek at the
last one, see what I mean? Take plenty of time. This is a great treat
for you. It makes you feel kind of religious. Now you're getting
it--that's the boy! All right--"

The scene where he showed humorous dismay at the quantity of his mail
had needed b