Or, if you are superior to this kind of thing, you can amuse yourself by deducing from the practice before you the famous Rules for Revolvers, which, mutatis mutandis, are as old as the Aristotelian unities and, for all I (or, probably, you) know to the contrary, were laid down at the same time by the same hand.
Rule 1. "All Innocent Characters expecting murderous assault from Particularly Desperate Villains will provide themselves with revolvers. Before retiring for the tragic night they will, grasping the revolver firmly in the right hand, place it carefully (as Professor Leacock would direct) on the revolver-stand. The P.D.V. will then know what to do about it. (Note: P.D.V.'s do not carry revolvers. They don't need to.)
Rule 2. "I.C.'s actually attacking P.D.V.'s will on no account fire, but, advancing stealthily, will offer their pistol-wrist to the enemy, who will at once lock it in a deathly grip. After a brief struggle, swaying this way and that, the P.D.V. will, on the word 'Four,' put on another beard and have the I.C. thrown into prison." And so forth.
I have no serious fault to find with these tactics. On the contrary. But I rather think that in the first Act an incident was introduced (no doubt in the spirit of the little girl's explanation à propos of her riddle, "That was just put in to make it more difficult"), which was not quite cricket as it is played by the best people in these stage shockers.
But I am on dangerous grounds. Let me say that Mr. Hannaford Bennett has been distinctly ingenious in his adaptation from M. Gaston Leroux's hectic feuilleton; that Miss Sybil Thorndike put in a much finer quality of work than is usually supplied with this kind of heroine; that Miss Daisy Markham as her friend played very gaily and prettily as long as the situation allowed it, and that Messrs. Franklin Dyall, Lewis Casson, Nicholas Hannen, Arthur Pusey, Major Jones, Colston Mansell and the Prompter all did notable work.
T.
Our Erudite Contemporaries.
"No doubt the inhabitants of the seaside resorts are duly grateful as they turn their faces to the trippers and the sun. Like Niobe, they are all smiles."—Provincial Paper.