The actor had not exaggerated his past successes. For three seasons he had been a notable figure on Broadway, and if his reputation had been more one of promise than achievement it was in dazzling contrast to what he had since become. He had himself almost forgotten the stir he had made--not the deafening curtain calls, the brimming box-offices, the deferential managers,--none could forget that--but the soberer, yet more valuable evidence of the critics. It was electrifying to listen to them again; to see across the mean, intervening years that other self of his lording it so high; to realize, with mingled bitterness, wonder and hope that he was still the same man, with the same if not richer powers, and a new-born resolution to regain what he had so lightly valued and so unconcernedly thrown away.
Phyllis, pink with excitement, and tripping occasionally over the longer words, read notice after notice with indefatigable zest, constantly substituting Booful and other endearing epithets for the more formal name in print, while her husband lay back, listening delightedly, and contributing exclamations, "By George, and it was William Winter who said that!"--"Say, that’s Huneker, isn’t it?" "A column in _The World_ isn’t handed out to everybody, not by a long sight."
BOOFUL OPENS AT WALLACK’S THE HONOR OF THE REGIMENT PLEASES, BUT NEEDS CUTTING. THE STAR SCORES AS MOODY HERO, AND EXCELS HIMSELF IN MAGNIFICENT PORTRAYAL OF EBHARDT.
"Those who went last night to see _Booful_ were not disappointed, however they may have disagreed about the play itself. For that brilliant young _darling_ it was hardly less than a personal triumph, and from the rise of the curtain--"
It was a very inconsiderate moment for a heavy rap at the door.
In the shadow stood a bulky figure--a blue figure--a figure with something shining on its swelling chest. Phyllis looked and quailed as the bravest of us do at the sight of the Law, intruding its hob-nailed boot into what is metaphorically termed our castle. In this case the castle was so small, and the Law so large and red and impressive that the former seemed but a trifling refuge against oppression. In the accents of a green and troubled island the new-comer asked: "Are you Misther Adair--Misther Surul Adair?"