For unlawful acquisition of the extra wheel, we presume. * * * * * From a shop-girl's account of the great War:-- "I shall never forget the Saturday before that Bank Holiday if I live till I draw my last breath."--_Daily Mirror._ She ought to have a fair chance of this. * * * * * "Sir Edward Grey has all manner of fine and beautiful ideals to which we lay no claim. But the fairy step-mother who was so prodigal over his cradle yet denied him one gift." _Morning Paper._ Still, it takes an exceptional man to have a step-mother at birth, fairy or other. * * * * * AT THE PLAY. "CAROLINE." A BABY, did he but know it, is only happy reaching out from the bath for the soap. When he gets it, lo! it is mere froth and bitterness. That, roughly, is Mr. MAUGHAM'S idea in _Caroline_. If you are to love a woman, for heaven's sake, says he, take care that she be safe bound beyond your reach. All attainment is dead-sea fruit. But how is anyone to believe this depressing sort of doctrine when the woman in question is such an engaging divinity as his _Caroline Ashley_, interpreted by Miss IRENE VANBRUGH at the very top of her form? The doctrine, indeed, may be hanged for the nefarious half-truth it is; but this would still leave you free to appreciate one of the most brilliant and finished pieces of work which Mr. MAUGHAM has yet done for the stage. True, it is merely an airy trifle; but it is almost perfect of its kind. The action opens on the morning of the announcement in _The Times_ of the death of _Caroline's_ extremely difficult husband, who has long been a wanderer seeking spirituous consolations in out-of-the-way places of the earth. _Robert Oldham_, a quite delightful barrister (Mr. LEONARD BOYNE; so you will understand the "delightful"), has worshipped _Caroline_ with an honourable fidelity for ten years, waiting patiently for the day on which she shall be free. Well, here is the long-desired day. Affectionate, officious friends come to congratulate each of the pair before they meet, and each confesses to a curious chilling sense of dread. When the embarrassing moment of the _tete-a-tete_ arrives, _Robert_, obviously ill-at-ease and apparently more as a matter of duty than of eager conviction, suggests that _Caroline_ shall name the day. She gives him a blank refusal. Both affect dismay at this queer ending of their long-deferred hopes, but eventually confess, mid peals of their own happy laughter, their actual relief. So ends the first chapter.