When she returned a little later to look for him he had gone.
He went to bed that night when darkness had made this practicable, and under his blankets whiled away a couple of wakeful hours by running tensely dramatic films of breakfast, dinner, and supper at the Gashwiler home.

It seemed that you didn't fall asleep so quickly when you had eaten nothing since early morning.

Never had he achieved such perfect photography as now of the Gashwiler corned-beef hash and light biscuits, the Gashwiler hot cakes and sausage, and never had Gashwiler so impressively carved the Saturday night four-rib roast of tender beef.
Gashwiler achieved a sensational triumph in the scene, being accorded all the close--ups that the most exacting of screen actors could wish.
His knife-work was perfect.

He held his audience enthralled by his technique.
Mrs.Gashwiler, too, had a small but telling part in the drama to-night; only a character bit, but one of those poignant bits that stand out in the memory.

The subtitle was, "Merton, won't you let me give you another piece of the mince pie ?" That was all, and yet, as screen artists say, it got over.