You didn't understand me, Ambrose cried.
And yet you don't respect the films, Griesheimer insisted. I don't want to be rough, Mr. Deacon, but if you are trying to raise your price I warn you you are going about it in the wrong way.
I . . .
Just a minute, please. This firm . . . Griesheimer hesitated and then began again: This group of artists, Mr. Deacon, while organized on a business basis, conducts its affairs on the highest moral and artistic principles. I may tell you indeed, sir, that this spirit of morality is demanded of all our employees whatever their rank or station, from the highest paid star to the lowest extra boy. Why, the very ushers in our moving picture cathedrals, Mr. Deacon, ain't permitted to smoke. Morals, even outside business hours, is one of our great concerns. We don't stand for vice, sir!
Ambrose, not being able to anticipate a suitable peroration, trembled. Whither could all this be leading?
Our stars have mothers, Mr. Deacon. They're chaperoned proper at all times. On this lot, sir, we frown on illicit love. The great American public, we discovered, prefers the star who is pure to the star that's lived her life, so to speak.
