Up to this moment a certain restraint had marked that body, but at this sight they went into uncontrolled spasms of delight. Martin Christiansen, dramatic critic, was seen to wipe tears of joy from his cheeks. The actors were spurred to renewed efforts. Carton declared his eternal devotion to Lucy, in words that were scarcely Dickensian. "I like you, Lucy; you're all right. I'll stick to you for ever," he improvised frantically. The marriage scene between Lucy and D'Arnay ran something like this. D'Arnay, very accurate in his lines, remarks to Dr. Manet: "Dr. Manet, I love your daughter--fondly, dearly. You loved once yourself; let your old love speak for me!" Dr. Manet's lines escaped him, so he replied informally: "Oh--all right." Whereupon the bridal procession entered, with Isabelle as climax, in her mother's best tulle scarf as a veil. The scene once more shifted to Paris. D'Arnay was arrested, and resisted. It took the entire company to overpower and drag him forth to the Bastille. A bit of unequalled histrionism followed in which Isabelle entered as Lucy, with little Nancy Holt as her child. She proceeded to impersonate both that heroine and Madame La Farge. It was simpler than it sounds. As Lucy she still wore the wedding veil, as Madame La Farge she snatched off the veil, wrapped a fur boa around her, seized her mother's knitting, and by leaping from one side of the stage to the other, by using now a high voice now a low one, the illusion was perfect. The chee-ild was rather roughly pushed about during the scene, which was highly emotional. "Be merciful to my husband for the sake of my chee-ild," cried Lucy, passionately, pushing Nancy forward. "Never!" growled Madame La Farge, pushing Nancy back. "Don't, Isabelle, you hurt," objected Nancy, but quailed into silence at Isabelle's terrible look. The audience was almost hysterical. The part where Carton rescues D'Arnay and changes places with him, important climax though it is in the book, was omitted by the dramatist, because it had no opportunity for Isabelle. D'Arnay arrived in Carton's clothes, many inches too small for him, and explained to Lucy what had occurred. So she and her child and her husband escape. The curtains were closed now, and the audience stirred as if to rise. Isabelle rushed forth. "Sit still," she commanded, "it isn't over yet." There was a long wait, and much hammering back on the stage. Then the curtains parted again on the big realistic moment of the drama. Suspended at back was what at first glance looked to be a wooden window frame. It was suspended from above by ropes, which disappeared over the gallery which ran around the garage. Under this frame was a wooden saw-horse, and beneath that a pail. Only a look sufficed to show that this was _La Belle Dame sans Merci_, the guillotine.