tearful contemplation of the ceiling, and went
out into the lobby to smoke. As I walked
about there I congratulated myself that I had
not brought some Lincoln girl who would
talk during the waits about the Junior dances,
or whether the cadets would camp at Platts-
mouth. Lena was at least a woman, and I was
a man.

Through the scene between Marguerite
and the elder Duval, Lena wept unceasingly,
and I sat helpless to prevent the closing of
that chapter of idyllic love, dreading the re-
turn of the young man whose ineffable happi-
ness was only to be the measure of his fall.

I suppose no woman could have been fur-
ther in person, voice, and temperament from
Dumas' appealing heroine than the veteran
actress who first acquainted me with her. Her
conception of the character was as heavy and
uncompromising as her diction; she bore hard
on the idea and on the consonants. At all
times she was highly tragic, devoured by
remorse. Lightness of stress or behavior was
far from her. Her voice was heavy and deep:
"Ar-r-r-mond!" she would begin, as if she
were summoning him to the bar of Judg-
ment. But the lines were enough. She had

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p311 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p312w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p313

v?