" A year or two more in some good company would have been of inestimable advantage to her, but the lower rungs of the ladder are not in great demand to-day. That ladder is top-heavy. The upper rungs are worn by the futile grasp of the too ambitious; the lower ones are neglected.
It was Paul M. Potter who tapped on the book cover of Elinor Macartney Lane's novel, with his not very magic wand, and tried to coax forth a play. Exactly why he did this was not made clear, for the day of the book play is over, and there was nothing in "Nancy Stair" that overtopped the gently commonplace.
Mr. Potter's play was by no means lacking in interest, but we are exceedingly tired of the ubiquitous heroine of tawdry "romance" who does unsubtle things, in an unsubtle way, to help out certain unsubtle "complications." If I mistake not, these very novels are beginning to pall, as such stupid, meaningless vaporings should do.
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There should have been
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Come with me Stephen
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I knew your husband
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