n; but it is also a true
play of character revealed by circumstance. Further--and this is very
rare--it owes nothing to the adventitious aid of the costumier. For the
author's observation of the unities is extended to include the matter of
dress; he allows his people one costume each and no more.

Miss IRENE VANBRUGH played as if every one of her words had been made
expressly for her, as, no doubt, they were. I have never seen her so
perfect in detail, in the poise of her head, in her least gesture and
intonation, in her swift changes of mood; never so quietly mistress of the
_finesse_ of her art.

As _Marden_, Mr. BEN WEBSTER was a little restless in a part for which he
was not constitutionally suited, but played with the greatest courage and
sincerity. Mr. DION BOUCICAULT'S study of _Mr. Pim_ was extraordinarily
effective; and the way in which he made the attenuated pipings of this
futile old gentleman carry like the notes of a bell was in itself a
remarkable feat.

These three were given great chances, full of colour. But in the part of
_Brian Strange_, the boy-lover, by its nature relatively colourless, Mr.
LESLIE HOWARD was hardly less good. He never made anything like a mistake
of manner. I wish I could say the same of his flapper. But Miss COHAN
asserted her good spirits a little too boisterously for the picture.

I hope I shall not be suspected of partiality towards one of Mr. Punch's
young men if I say that this is the best of the good things that Mr. MILNE
has given us. As in his unacted play, _The Lucky One_, he gives evidence of
a desire, not unfrequent in humourists, to be taken seriously. But he knows
by now that brilliant dialogue is what is expected of him, and he thinks,
too modestly, that he cannot afford to dispense with it for long at a time.
The result is that, after stringing us up to face a tragic situation, he is
tempted to let us down with light-hearted cynicisms. He would hate me to
suggest that Mr. BERNARD SHAW has infected him, but perhaps he wouldn't
mind my hinting at the influence of Sir JAMES BARRIE. Certainly his
_Mardens_ remind me of the _Darlings_ in _Peter Pan_. Just as there we were
invited alternately to weep for the bereaved mother's sorrow and roar over
the bereaved father's buffooneries, so here, though not so disastrously,
our hearts are torn between sympathy for the husband's real troubles and
amusement at the wife's flippant attitude towards the common tragedy.

I will no