They would kneel side by side, hand in hand, at the bedside of the little one, who would recover and smile and prattle, and together they would face an untroubled future.
This was all thrilling to Merton Gill; but Beulah Baxter was not here, her plays being clean and wholesome things of the great outdoors.

Far down the great enclosure was another wall of canvas backing, a flood of light above it and animated voices from within.

He stood again to watch.
But this drama seemed to have been suspended.

The room exposed was a bedroom with an open window facing an open door; the actors and the mechanical staff as well were busily hurling knives at various walls.
They were earnest and absorbed in this curious pursuit.

Sometimes they made the knife penetrate the wall, oftener it merely struck and clattered to the floor.