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It was a crowded night at Wallack's theatre

The play was "The Shaughraun," with Dion Boucicault in the title role and Harry Montague and Ada Dyas as the lovers The popularity of the adhraun always packed the house In the galleries the enthusiasm was unreserved; in the stalls and boxes, people smiled a little at the hackneyed sentiments and clap-trap situations, and enjoyed the play as alleries did

There was one episode, in particular, that held the house froue, after a sad, alood-bye, and turned to go The actress, as standing near the ray cashs,lines about her feet Around her neck was a narrow black velvet ribbon with the ends falling down her back

When her wooer turned froainst the mantel-shelf and bowed her face in her hands On the threshold he paused to look at her; then he stole back, lifted one of the ends of velvet ribbon, kissed it, and left the roo her attitude And on this silent parting the curtain fell

It was always for the sake of that particular scene that Newland Archer went to see "The Shaughraun" He thought the adieux of Montague and Ada Dyas as fine as anything he had ever seen Croisette and Bressant do in Paris, or Madge Robertson and Kendal in London; in its reticence, its dumb sorrow, it s

On the evening in question the little scene acquired an added poignancy by re from Madame Olenska after their confidential talk a week or ten days earlier

It would have been as difficult to discover any resemblance between the two situations as between the appearance of the persons concerned Newland Archer could not pretend to anything approaching the young English actor's roood looks, and Miss Dyas was a tall red-haired woly face was utterly unlike Ellen Olenska's vivid countenance Nor were Archer and Mada in heart-broken silence; they were client and lawyer separating after a talk which had given the lawyer the worst possible impression of the client's case Wherein, then, lay the rese man's heart beat with a kind of retrospective excitement? It see tragic andpossibilities outside the daily run of experience She had hardly ever said a word to him to produce this impression, but it was a part of her, either a projection of herinherently dramatic, passionate and unusual in herself