She did think rather often of Kemble’s portrayal of Hamlet and contrast it to Kean’s. She even gave quite a bit of consideration to Mr. Pomroy’s suggestion that she might find beauties in both interpretations, but try as she might she could not feel that Kemble’s portrayal was as good as Kean’s. On Saturday, as she hurried about her chores, she thought often of Mr. Pomroy and wondered if he would take up her invitation to come to the greenroom. She had taken time to apprise Kean of this possibility, and he had smiled impishly and said, “I promise to be nice to your nervous friend, Samantha. At least he’s not a lord.” She smiled now at the memory and hurried on to the work room. Maria had been kind enough to have someone take her place on Thursday night, and she did not want to fall behind in her work. She speeded her steps, anticipation at the prospect of seeing Kean’s Shylock giving her added energy. As she entered the work room, she almost collided with Lily Porter, who was coming out.
