The two actresses, already thoroughly familiar with the scene, rehearse it again, adding the new bit of detail as the director instructs them. He is not quite satisfied, and takes one of the parts himself, showing the actress how he wants her to put her hand up to her face. Finally she does it to suit him, and he is satisfied. “All right,” he says, “we’ll shoot it.—Lights!” The lights are switched on once more, and in the bright, sputtering glare the sisters walk into the scene. Just before they cross the line into the camera angle both camera men start grinding. After about fifteen seconds of action the director nods, well pleased. “Cut!” he says shortly, and both camera men stop. Half an hour’s preparation and rehearsal for fifteen seconds of action! Again the lights are switched off. The man in charge of the script, sitting on a stool with a sheet of paper snapped on a board on his lap, puts down the number of the scene and adds details of costume—what each sister is wearing, the flowers that one is carrying in her hand, and so on—to have a complete record in case of “retake,” or other scenes that match with this before or after. “Now we’ll move up on ’em,” says the director. The cameras are moved closer, and the action of the preceding scenes is repeated. This time the cameras are so close that the faces of the actresses will appear large on the screen, with every detail of expression showing. Before the close-ups are begun, the lights are moved up, too, and one of the spot lights switched around more to one side to give an attractive “back lighting” effect on the hair of the sisters, that appears almost like a halo, later, when it is seen on the screen. Before each scene is taken an assistant holds a slate with the director’s name, the head camera man’s name, and the number of the scene, written on it, in front of the cameras, and the camera men grind a few turns. In this way, the “take” is made. When the different “takes” are finally matched together in the finished picture these numbers will be cut off, but they are necessary to facilitate the work of identifying the hundreds or even thousands of different shots of which the final picture is composed. Leaving the great dark “light stage” we pass on into the lot beyond. In front of us is another great stage, but this time open to the sky. Instead of artificial lights, there are great white cloth “reflectors,” to deflect the sunlight on to the scene and intensify the light where under the sun’s direct rays alone there would be shadows. Sets, actors, camera men and action are all as they were on the other stage, except that instead of a profusion of sets we find here only one or two, as not nearly so many scenes are taken here as on the other stage.