Lady Hathaway, notorious dilettante rehearses for her upcoming West End debut of Euripede's tragic play:'Phoenician Women' in her splendid garden. Some wags might opine that she is buttering the bacon but those gigglemugs should know that Lady Hathaway is the jammiest bits of jam and 'dash my wig' she comports herself with elegance and grace and takes the egg at any nanty narking. Should the viewer have 'got the morbs' and gone off their cat-lap then this fine church-bell with her rose lipped sauce box will bring them round. Tickets are available at the usual box office. Three shillings and tuppence for stalls and four shillings for grand circle seats.