Even this sad news made no impression upon the wretch.

He seemed to be a man of one idea.
Again he seized her, and the maddened girl stabbed him with a pair of long gleaming shears that had lain on the manager's desk.

He fell lifeless at her feet, while the girl stared in horror at the weapon she still grasped.
Merton Gill would not have lingered for this.

There were tedious waits, and scenes must be rehearsed again and again.

Even the agony of the girl as she learned of her mother's passing must be done over and over at the insistence of a director who seemed to know what a young girl should feel at these moments.