“For the moving pictures.”
He looked at her, and then he bowed very politely.
“Well, well!” he said. “I didn’t recognize you at first, Miss Pickford. And how’s Doug?”
We did not tell Tish that we had witnessed this encounter. She might have been sensitive about mistaking a farmer for a scarecrow.
It was a day or so after, in our presence, that Tish informed Hannah she would take her along as her maid. And Hannah, who in twenty odd years had never been known to show enthusiasm, was plainly delighted with the prospect.
“D’you mean I can see them acting?” she inquired.
“I imagine so,” Tish said with a tolerant smile.
“Love scenes too?” Hannah asked, with an indelicacy that startled us.
“There will be no love scenes in this picture, Hannah,” Tish reproved her. “I am surprised at you. And even in the ones you see every evening, when you ought to be doing something better, it is as well to remember that the persons are not really lovers. Indeed, that often they are barely friends.”
She then told Hannah to go downtown and buy a book on moving-picture make-up and the various articles required, as, since she was to be a personal maid, she must know about such things.