He knew that Vera Vanderpool had escaped the blight of Broadway to choose the worthwhile, the true, the vital things of life, and that was about all he now cared to know of the actual play.
This tenement bed had become for him its outstanding dramatic value.

He saw himself in it for a good night's rest, waking refreshed in plenty of time to be dressed and out before the tenement people would need it.

He must surely learn if the big sliding doors to these stages were locked overnight.
He loitered about the stages until late afternoon, with especial attention to sleeping apartments.

In one gripping drama he felt cheated.
The set showed the elaborately fitted establishment of a fashionable modiste.

Mannequins in wondrous gowns came through parted curtains to parade before the shop's clientele, mostly composed of society butterflies.