Various causes were assigned for the phenomenal ill-luck of the
theater, but undoubtedly the vital objection to it as a Temple of Drama
lay in the fact that nobody could ever find the place where it was
hidden. Cabmen shook their heads on the rare occasions when they were
asked to take a fare there. Explorers to whom a stroll through the
Australian bush was child's-play, had been known to spend an hour on
its trail and finish up at the point where they had started.
It was precisely this quality of elusiveness which had first attracted
Mr. Montague. He was a far-seeing man, and to him the topographical
advantages of the theater were enormous. It was further from a
fire-station than any other building of the same insurance value
in London, even without having regard to the mystery which enveloped
its whereabouts. Often after a good dinner he would lean comfortably
back in his chair and see in the smoke of his cigar a vision of the
Windsor Theater blazing merrily, while distracted firemen galloped madly
all over London, vainly endeavoring to get some one to direct them to
the scene of the conflagration.
Pages:
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59