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A DRAMATIC CRITIC
the regularity which the sculptor approves.
Her forehead was broad and full; her eyes
were softly brilliant, and their gray shifted
into every appropriate color; her mouth,
both firm and sensitive, had not the out-
line of the conventional Cupid's bow; her
chin was pointed, and protruded a little
from the profile line. In the one interview
I had with her, she compared herself with
a notoriously handsome English actress,
concluding, with a frank laugh, " But /
have n't 2. featchur, I know." Yet on the
stage her beauty irradiated the scene. The
explanation is easy. She had a counte-
nance over which the mind and spirit had
absolute control, in and through whose
plastic material they uttered themselves
without let or hindrance, making it their
exponent rather than their veil, as if, by a
mystical operation of the physical law, the
force of the soul were transmuted into terms
of flesh. These words, which sound ex-
travagant, are simply true. One does not
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