Pauline Frederick : on and off the stage (1940)

146 Pauline Frederick night she would give the best performance she had ever done as a reward to those beloved " queuers " for their tedious vigil. That opening night at the Lyceum Theatre in London on March 2, 1927, was an exciting occasion. Pauline's dressing room looked like an overstocked florist's shop, and this was a matter of much greater significance in London for the people there do not have the delightful American habit of sending flowers on the slightest pretext. Even to the most experienced actor or actress, an opening night is always accompanied by a bad attack of the jitters. This is something which few, if any, ever get over, no matter how long their experience. The atmosphere in the Lyceum that night was tense, not only back stage but out front as well as outside the theatre itself. Not all in those long waiting queues were able to get seats and the back of the pit and the gallery were crowded with standees. When the curtain went up, the air was pregnant with expectation to see the woman who was so familiar on the screen to most everybody but had never actually been seen in person in this city. The moment Pauline appeared she received such a tremendous ovation that for several minutes the play could not proceed. At first, she merely stood waiting for the applause to subside so that she could speak her lines. When it did not subside, she held up her hand, but that had no effect; so for a brief moment she stepped out of the character of Jacqueline Floriot and made a deep bow to the audience. This bow of Pauline's had become one of her best loved characteristics. It was not just a jerk at the knees or a bob of the head but a deep bow from the waist in generous acknowledgment of the audience's homage. When she first bowed in this manner her dignified mother had expressed much disapproval, preferring the orthodox curtsey of the dancing school or court type. Mumsy