Alice stood in deep thought for a moment. Then with a little gesture, as though putting the past behind her, she exclaimed:
"Yes, Russ, I will, and I thank you! I told Ruth I was going to do something, and I am. If father can get an engagement I won't have to go to work. Not that I'm ashamed to work—I love it!" she added hastily. "But I wouldn't like to be a public manicurist, and that's the only situation that seemed open to me. I will go see your manager, Russ, and I'll do my best to get father to take up this work. It's quite different from what I thought it was."
"I knew you'd say that," chuckled Russ. "Come on."
"What would Ruth say if she saw me now?" Alice asked, as she and Russ walked off together. "She would certainly think I was defying all conventionality."
"Don't worry." Russ advised her. "It's the sensible thing to do. And I'll explain to Ruth, too."
"Oh, I believe you could explain to anyone!" Alice declared with enthusiasm. "You've made it so clear and different to me. But how do they make moving pictures?"
"You'll soon see," he answered. "We're going to one of the film studios now. This is about the time they begin to make the scenes. It's very interesting."
Soon they found themselves before a rather bare brick building. It had nothing of the look of a theater about it. There were no gaudy lithographs out in front, no big frames with the pictures of the actors and actresses, or of scenes from the plays. There was no box office—no tiled foyer. It might have been a factory. Alice's face must have shown the surprise she felt, for Russ said:
"This is where the films are made. It's all business here. They make the inside scenes here—anything from the interior of a miner's shack to a ballroom in a king's palace. Of course, for outside scenes they go wherever the scenery best suits the story of the play. And here the film negatives are developed, and duplicate positives made for the projecting machines. This is Mr. Pertell's principal factory."
"Fancy a play-factory!" exclaimed Alice.