There is much of "If you really want me, I'll never leave you more" and of "My life is worth living only if I live it for you". There is a lot of that great British outdoor sport, the charity garden party. There are a hurdy-gurdy man and a kindly old cockney woman to leaven the mixture. There is some singing by Irene Dunne which clearly shows how much in love Clive Brook is when he calls it beautiful. But there is nothing new, nothing startling, nothing even mildly lascivious, to disturb the calmness and serenity of this picture of the rehabilitation of a man and a woman on the point of suicide because of marital infelicity.

The condensed version of "The Student Prince" on the stage lacks all excuse. The company seems definitely to be trying to vitiate Romberg's music, nor is anything gained by introducing 1933 wise-cracks into what purports to be an 1840 atmosphere. Kathie reaches for the high notes with commendable energy but deplorable lack of success; Karl Franz acts like a wooden soldier and sings like a pelican. If the Student Prince is not to be allowed to die, there should at least be a penal law against dragging him from the grave with such brutality. M.O'C.G.