Word: arched
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Olive Blakeney and Roy Elkins created the impression of rather convincing arch-conspirators. Their malefactions against "Dizzie" were almost successful and served to give a stimulating air of mystery. Anna Laying, as Lady Beacons-field, gave an exceedingly convincing interpretation of the fine English Lady who proved so helpful to her rather lonely husband. Houston Richards and Louis Leon Hall handled the finances of England well enough to get some distinction in the final court scene along with a host of minor characters who constituted almost the entire personel of the company. Even Hector, himself, helped in the closing scene...
Florence Mills shone far above the heads of the other principals. The audience welcomed her in advance and encored her to the echo. She put over her numbers with a clear, high voice, an arch swagger, and, like all the rest of the company, a world of vitality. Cora Green provided an acceptable contrast, and the gentlemen of the company were always ready to oblige with a laugh...
Winthrop Ames, one of our most selectively judicious producers, surrounded Mr. Arliss with a long and satisfactory company. Even in the raspingly British second act of the silly ass and arch girl sort, the players were usually above the manuscript. On the star's performance adjectives were tossed in an enthusiastic heap. He was furnished with opportunity to love, hate, eat, drink and die. These elemental attributes he interpreted with a gorgeous gusto, a decisive individuality which made the part one of Mr. Arliss's best since the days he did Disraeli...
...flourish, a bow, and the hat is swept on again. A cool survey of the arena, and the hero steps jauntily towards his victim. He arranges his muleta as he goes, balancing his sword ' above it with arch precision. Grace is everything. The watching thousands bate their breath to see such bravery in a mincing mayfly. He makes it seem the merest trifle to approach a snorting, bloody-eyed monster where it stands at bay, to halt six paces off and pose a second, waiting for the animal to come into position; to rise on tiptoe and make a dainty...
...middle of the yellow arena, with a blue arch of sky above, dressed in black and scarlet, stood a slim ama- teur matador. The bull charged. That matador took a single deliberate step aside. The bull hammered past. Into his path again stepped the matador. He danced, he mocked, he swung his scarlet cloak. But this bull was a thief, as they say; he "knew Latin." Drumming hoofs, a broken shout, a thud. "Maria. He is dead!" gasped the onlookers. So ended the last bullfight of Ignacio Zuloaga*, famed Spanish painter...