“During the summer of 1900 we took ’Zaza’ to London. Before opening there I went to Paris to visit the authors, Berton and Simon. They had been paid large sums for the American rights of ’Zaza,’ and as the success of ’Zaza’ in America led to its revival in Paris their profits were enormous. Naturally, I was a welcome guest and my weekend visit was very agreeable, as it was made to the accompaniment of a song of praise—of superlative gratitude. What I had accomplished was remarkable! Superb! There was no other man, etc., etc. In the meanwhile I was wondering what they would say when they saw the manuscript of ’Zaza.’ They came to London for the first night, preceded by a huge hamper of flowers for Mrs. Carter. The opening was a brilliant function. The late King Edward, then Prince of Wales, was present; also King George, then Duke of York. I remember the military bearing of Clement Scott in his scarlet-lined coat, and the rough and ready appearance of Bernard Shaw, in his soft shirt and crush hat. What the latter thought of Mrs. Carter found its caustic way into the columns of ’The Saturday Review’; what the audience thought was told by the growing enthusiasm as the play progressed; what Berton and Simon thought was shown by a certain coolness in their attitude toward me. Their enthusiasm died a natural death after the Second Act, and the more demonstrative the audience the less pleased were they. At the close of the Third Act they left the house, telling me in heated terms that I had ruined their climax and it was not their play at all. Curiously enough, they did not see the humor of the situation. My version made their fortune because it made the woman possible to an English-speaking audience. The authors were in the odd position of quarreling with their bread and butter (an unusual situation for playwrights). They grew angrier and angrier as the play gained favor with the public, and their royalties were increased week after week. Those were strenuous days. However, they calmed down, and in the course of time Monsieur Berton asked me to forget the letter of denunciation he wrote to me from Paris.”