Of course you can't get away from a snow-storm like that! A stage
snow-storm is the kind of snow-storm that would follow you upstairs
and want to come into bed with you.

Another curious thing about these stage snow-storms is that the moon
is always shining brightly through the whole of them. And it shines
only on the heroine, and it follows her about just like the snow does.

Nobody fully understands what a wonderful work of nature the moon is
except people acquainted with the stage. Astronomy teaches you
something about the moon, but you learn a good deal more from a few
visits to a theater. You will find from the latter that the moon only
shines on heroes and heroines, with perhaps an occasional beam on the
comic man: it always goes out when it sees the villain coming.

It is surprising, too, how quickly the moon can go out on the stage.
At one moment it is riding in full radiance in the midst of a
cloudless sky, and the next instant it is gone! Just as though it had
been turned off at a meter. It makes you quite giddy at first until
you get used to it.

The stage heroine is inclined to thoughtfulness rather than gayety.

In her cheerful moments the stage heroine thinks she sees the spirit
of her mother, or the ghost of her father, or she dreams of her dead
baby.

But this is only in her very merry moods. As a rule, she is too much
occupied with weeping to have time for frivolous reflections.