Eight months ago, the future was anything but certain for Memphis, the new musical at the Shubert Theater in Manhattan.
In a low voice Meyer recited the names of the six men who belonged to his squad, and of Shubert.
Shubert, with his moody romances, was her favorite composer.
Theatrical booking became an open field, and the producer can now play his attractions in both Syndicate and Shubert theaters.
It was Shubert's Fantasia Impromptu this time, and there was absolute silence as it ended.
There was one in Ohio, she remembered: she played it once with a Shubert road show.
Meyer detailed Shubert and two of the Mexican cattle-drivers to report to Smith for duty.
The Shubert theatres and Carnegie libraries are running a dead heat in an earnest endeavor to perpetuate their respective names.
In the centre of the room lay the boy Shubert, perfectly motionless and no doubt dead.