When one of the turning reflectors illumined him Merton saw his face of a keen Semitic type.

He seemed to possess not the most engaging personality; his manner was aggressive, he spoke rudely to his doubtless conscientious employees, he danced in little rages of temper, and altogether he was not one with whom the watcher would have cared to come in contact.

He wondered, indeed, that so puissant a star as Beulah Baxter should not be able to choose her own director, for surely the presence of this unlovely, waspishly tempered being could be nothing but an irritant in the daily life of the wonder-woman.

Perhaps she had tolerated him merely for one picture.
Perhaps he was especially good in shipwrecks.
If Merton Gill were in this company he would surely have words with this person, director or no director.

He hastily wrote a one-reel scenario in which the man so far forgot himself as to speak sharply to the star, and in which a certain young actor, a new member of the company, resented the ungentlemanly words by pitching the offender into a convenient pool and earned even more than gratitude from the starry-eyed wonder-woman.
The objectionable man continued active, profuse of gesture and loud through the megaphone.