It will soon be over, he assured himself, settling back in his seat while Georgiana clasped his hand. He was to find that he was mistaken. To be sure, the house was immediately plunged in darkness so that Ambrose caught only a fleeting glimpse of this cinema temple which combined the best elements of Theodoric's Tomb at Ravenna with those of St. Mark's at Venice and the Paramount. Theatre in New York. Nevertheless considerable time elapsed before the picture was exposed.
First, the orchestra played a long overture. Next Girstein's well-advertised prologue to the film was unfolded. Girstein, Auburn explained, prided himself on his prologues. They were what he had to give to the picture world. There were marches of girls dressed as dolphins. There were ballets of girls dressed as birds and butterflies. There were choruses of girls apparently not dressed at all. There were solos, vocal and pedal, by dozens of principals. All in all, every one within hearing distance agreed, Girstein had outdone himself. It was twelve-thirty before the curtain went down on a spectacle which presented twenty-five girls swinging on trapezes high in the air, tossing red roses to the buyers of orchestra stalls.
