As usual, no expense had been spared in the mounting, and Adrien's money
had been poured out like water on extraordinary costumes, gorgeous,
highly-coloured scenery, and a hundred embellishments for this new piece
of elaborate and senseless burlesque, Prince Bon-Bon. But with all its
deficiencies as regarded culture, the piece appeared to be a success.
Ada Lester could dance, if she could not act; and she could shout a
vulgar patter song, if she could not sing; therefore after a tumultuous
first act, during which she had been "Hongkored"--as she expressed
it--to her heart's content, she was standing in the wings, with a
cigarette between her painted lips, radiant with content and gratified
vanity.
"Well, Shelton," said Leroy, as his friend approached him, where he
leaned against a stack of scenery. "What do you think of the show this
time?"
"As beautiful as it is senseless," was that gentleman's sarcastic reply.
"Heaven alone knows what it cost you," he added.
"I certainly don't know myself," admitted Adrien, knocking the ash from
his cigarette. "Ask Paxhorn--he wrote the lyrics, and had the
management; or better still Vermont, whom I'm going to see myself
presently.
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