Most of them went to bed at dark and slept until dawn.
She went out, intending to go back to her literary endeavors; if she never started that book, certainly it would never make her rich, and she would never be able to make war upon circumstances.

She thought of her father with a twinge of remorse because she had wasted so much time this morning, and she scarcely glanced toward the picture-people down by the corrals, so she did not see that Robert Grant Burns turned to look at her and then started hurriedly up the path to the house.
"Say," he called, just before she disappeared around the corner.

"Wait a minute.

I want to talk to you." Jean waited, and the fat man came up breathing hard because of his haste in the growing heat of the forenoon.
"Say, I'd like to use you in a few scenes," he began abruptly when he reached her.

"Gay can't put over the stuff I want; and I'd like to have you double for her in some riding and roping scenes.