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The Fatal Wedding. At the fag end of the season, when imagination— and cash—run low, producers seem to turn naturally to revivals. At least one manager, Mary H. Kirkpatrick, has done this with tongue in cheek. She has resurrected a moth-eaten old melodrama by one Theodore Kremer which consumed New York with excitement a generation ago. But she has not dusted it off nor sought to mend the moth holes.
She has presented it as near as possible in the mode of yesteryear, with the...
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