Meet Mr. Callaghan. (Garrick.)
THE curtain was raised, as far as I was concerned, to denote little more than the passage of two-and-a-quarter hours. This adaptation of one of Mr. Peter Cheyney's crime-stories is a drab affair, proving once again the folly of cramming into a single setting events originally intended to be taking place over half a county. One's mind comes finally to dwell on the dialogue—a groggy foundation, for it is a quicksand of cliché, in-which people are constantly threatening to settle scores with each other later, since they are M spots and must work fast. There has been a murder, and the suspects, grouped together for easy identification, are all named Meraulton : it is a family, or tontine-type, slaying. There are two supporting charac- ters named Gringall and Jengel, and a third, mentioned in passing to make up a full chime, called Fingle. The only performance of any distinction is Mr. Terence de Marney's, as Slim Callaghan, a shifty and bellicose private detective who has only to sneer-in anyone's direction for him to start offering banknotes. Mr. de Marney acts so well with his suit, his cigarettes, his telephone, his hands and his feet that I Was quite ready to forgive him for keeping his voice so
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