"Explain!" demanded Mr. Bamberger vigorously.

"No, no, that won't do! Say it this way--EXPLAIN."

"Explain," said Mr. Bamberger, giving a modified imitation.

"That's better. Now go on."

"One night," resumed Mrs. Morgan, whose lines came next, "father
and mother were going to the opera. When they were crossing
Broadway, the usual crowd of children accosted them for alms--"

"Hold on," said the director, rushing forward, his arm extended.
"Put more feeling into what you are saying."

Mrs. Morgan looked at him as if she feared a personal assault.
Her eye lightened with resentment.

"Remember, Mrs. Morgan," he added, ignoring the gleam, but
modifying his manner, "that you're detailing a pathetic story.
You are now supposed to be telling something that is a grief to
you. It requires feeling, repression, thus: 'The usual crowd of
children accosted them for alms.'"

"All right," said Mrs. Morgan.

"Now, go on."

"As mother felt in her pocket for some change, her fingers