What makes The Glass of Water a marvelous theatrical experience is the complexity and dizzying pace of the action. The opening act sets forth the obstacles confronting the hero: Saint-Jean is penniless and heavily in debt, and the family fortune is in the hands of an obnoxious and stupid cousin with whom he is on bad terms. His enemy, the duchess, has bought up his debts and threatens to send him to prison. There is no immediate prospect of his party’s regaining power and his returning to the post of prime minister, and the duchess will not let any of his letters reach the queen. Although England’s finances have been seriously depleted by the protracted war, and the French are anxious to negotiate peace, the duchess, whose husband commands the English forces and who stands to gain handsomely from continued hostilities, will not let the French envoy approach the queen. As if this were not enough, the hero’s friends also face serious hurdles. The shopgirl Abigail, whom Saint-Jean has befriended, finds the duchess opposed to her taking a position in the palace that the queen (who owes the girl a sum of money) has promised. The young and handsome officer Masham, another protégé of Saint-Jean, is penniless and loves Abigail but cannot marry her until he has made his fortune. In addition, he has been warned by a secret protector never to marry and has been repeatedly insulted by an arrogant but unknown nobleman. The denouement is easy enough to predict: Masham marries Abigail, who becomes the queen’s new favorite; the duchess and her faction are disgraced; and Saint-Jean, having inherited his cousin’s title and fortune, regains the post of prime minister and persuades the queen to sign a peace treaty with France. As in a mystery novel, it is not the ending but the means of...