for breakfast. He could play a mean game of stud poker. But he knew nothing about plays or players.
Immediately after the war, Henry had permitted George Drury to produce a musical show for him. Not an elaborate musical show, just a sprightly, tuneful little entertainment, with twelve chorus girls, two full-stage sets and a cyclorama.
"Yvonne" had been a million and a half dollar success. For ninety-seven weeks "Yvonne" played on, establishing a record for musical shows. Its success had freed the Commodore from debt. Mortgages were lifted; Henry Colman was rich.
He urged Drury to repeat the success of "Yvonne." Year after year "Lulus," "Fifis" and "Mimis" came to Broadway and passed quietly away because they were too much like "Yvonne." Dollar by dollar the stock of dollars earned by "Yvonne" diminished.
Henry worried. Worry to Henry meant lengthy spells of drinking. He got and stayed drunk.
During one such spree, an old friend and creditor, Mike Vee, costumer extraordinary to Broadway, met Henry in the Lambs' Club. Mike took him home and sobered him up. During the process of restoring Henry to his senses, Howard Vee, Mike's son, came home from Europe.
As Henry regained consciousness he learned that he had leased the Commodore for one year to Howard Vee for fifty thousand dollars. To his rueful amazement, Henry discovered that all he retained in the theatre during the period of the lease was his private office, done elegantly in Victorian red plush and leather; his private bar; his dressing cabinet and the rear stairs.
