How prettily the street swerved.
As a rule, great thoroughfares were free from tricks.
She sauntered.
“A picture-palace.”
And just beyond were the playhouses themselves.
Theatreland!
Shaftesbury Avenue with its slightly foreign aspect stretched before her.
With a springing foot she turned up it.
Oh, those fragile glass façades with the players’ names suspended!
There was the new Merrymount Theatre with its roguish Amorini supporting torches and smiling down over gay flower-boxes on to the passers-by.