The mad light of pleasure was in every eye, yet one felt that the blight of Broadway was real.
The camera was wheeled forward and Merton Gill joyously quit smoking while Henshaw secured flashes of various groups, chiefly of losers who were seeing the hollowness of it all.

He did not, however, disdain a bit of comedy.
"Miss Montague." "Yes, Mr.Henshaw." The Montague girl paused in the act of sprinkling chips over a roulette lay-out.
"Your escort has lost all his chips and you've lost all he bought for you--" The girl and her escort passed to other players the chips before them, and waited.
"Your escort takes out his wallet, shows it to you empty, and shrugs his shoulders.

You shrug, too, but turn your back on him, facing the camera, and take some bills out of your stocking--see what I mean?
Give her some bills, someone." "Never mind, Mr.Henshaw; I already got some there." The pantomime was done, the girl turned, stooped, withdrew flattened bills from one of the salmon-pink stockings and flourished them at her escort who achieved a transition from gloom to joy.

Merton Gill, observing this shameless procedure, plumbed the nether depths of disgust for Broadway's night life.
The camera was now wheeled toward him and he wearily lighted another cigarette.

"Get a flash of this chap," Henshaw was saying.