The photoplay can flit from one to the other.

Not more than one sixteenth of a second is needed to carry us from one corner of the globe to the other, from a jubilant setting to a mourning scene.

The whole keyboard of the imagination may be used to serve this emotionalizing of nature.
There is a girl in her little room, and she opens a letter and reads it.
There is no need of showing us in a close-up the letter page with the male handwriting and the words of love and the request for her hand.

We see it in her radiant visage, we read it from her fascinated arms and hands; and yet how much more can the photoartist tell us about the storm of emotions in her soul.

The walls of her little room fade away.
Beautiful hedges of hawthorn blossom around her, rose bushes in wonderful glory arise and the whole ground is alive with exotic flowers.
Or the young artist sits in his attic playing his violin; we see the bow moving over the strings but the dreamy face of the player does not change with his music.