The members of the cast were placed at the table in the foreground.  Enid, Gordon, Marilyn, and a fourth man were assigned locations; after which Werner proceeded to fill the seats in the rear.  With the exception of Millard and Phelps, none of the inexperienced people were allowed to face the camera.  Manton, whose features were familiar through published interviews in many publicity campaigns, was placed to one side opposite Phelps.  Millard was given charge of a group containing a number of giddy extra girls in somewhat diaphanous costume, and seemed to be in his element.

The tables themselves were prepared with perfect taste.  I could see that real food was being used, in order to achieve a greater degree of realism, for a caterer had set up a buffet some distance out of the scene from which to serve the courses called for in the script.  Many of the dishes were being kept hot, the steam curling from beneath the covers in appetizing wisps.  The wine, supposed to be champagne, was sparkling apple juice of the best quality, and I don’t doubt but that before the days of prohibition Werner would have insisted upon the real fizz water.  In details such as these the director was showing no economy.

“All ready now?” Werner called, stepping back to a place at a table which he had reserved for himself.  “All set?  Remember the action of the script?”

Instantly the buzz of conversation died and everyone turned to him.

“No, no, no!” he exclaimed in vexation.  “Don’t go dead on your feet.  This is a banquet.  You are having a good time.  It’s not a funeral!  You were all in just the right state of mind before, and you don’t have to stop and gape to listen to me.  Keep right on talking and laughing.  My voice will carry and you can hear without getting out of your parts.”

I turned to Kennedy, to see how the picture-making struck him.  I saw that he was watching the two girls at the forward table closely and so I faced about to follow his glance.  Marilyn’s face was red with anger, while Enid, calm and rather malicious, was ignoring her to devote all attention to Gordon.  The leading man, bored and irritated, made no effort to conceal a heavy scowl.  In the momentary interval following Werner’s instructions, Marilyn lost all control of herself.

“If you will pardon me, miss Faye,” she cried out in a voice which carried over to us and with cutting accent upon the “Miss,” “I think that in this scene at least we should both be facing the camera.  If I understand the scene in the script at all it is intended to show the conflict between the two women over the one man seated between them.  Jack Daring is to be swayed first by Stella Remsen, then by Zelda.  At least this once I think the daughter of old Remsen and his ward are playing roles of equal importance.”

For a moment I smiled, realizing that Marilyn was not going to let Enid “take the picture away” from her as we had seen the new star do in one of her first scenes with the leading man.  Then I sobered, realizing that it was the outer reflection of the deep-running passion of these people.  The cloud of Stella’s death was over them still.