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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...nature of these concessions nobody could say. There were many guesses, none of them probable. Certainly it seemed that an effort was actually being made to induce Spain to return to the League and that some sort of a compromise was being worked out concerning the future status of Tangier and there were hints of tariff concessions; but as to what France might have to offer Spain remained completely in the dark, and as to what Dictator Benito Mussolini of Italy might think of the negotiations (in which he is closely concerned) was equally obscure...
...ratio that he possesses woman's qualities (emotion, perception, tenderness, ruthlessness). Genius Balieff possessed one woman's quality, and it finally drove him to desert the Moscow Art. He craved to talk. To satisfy this craving he formed his own theatre; in its early days a sort of music hall cafe, and called it The Bat. "When I make the theatre in a cellar, as I go in one day. . . one bat was flying...
...flocked to the office, but unfortunately they did not bring the legal problems for which he had hoped. Instead of wage disputes, and landlord and tenant cases, the clients wished advice concerning their marital obligations and disputes. He felt that the social agencies were better equipped to handle this sort of case than were students of the Law School, and after about two years the experiment was given...
...been proposed for various famed actresses (Jeanne Eagels, et al). Miram Hopkins† finally got the part and did well enough with it; probably better than the part deserved For the play was pale. To be sure Miss Hopkins was called upon to disrobe almost constantly; but that sort of thing can go only so far. She played the part of a music hall dancer who contrived to get herself adopted by a Baroness in order to marry a wealthy English youth. Five minutes before the wedding the youth, learning all, is distraught with her deceit. Furious at the collapse...
...important counts. When the Atlantic Monthly, once the sedate barouche in which members of Boston's old literary circle sent their gentle brain children out for placid airings, last year whipped up its horses with a $10,000 prize for "the most interesting novel of any kind, sort or description," submitted by any writer, "whether born in London or Indianapolis." Readers looked for some tranquil, mildly effeminate tale, perhaps modeled on those of Edith Wharton. They were surprised on scanning the first installment of Jalna to discover a robust and brawny fiction, crowded with characters energetically alive, scampering into...