But when the Curtain
had fallen for the last time, and the audience were departing more in
sadness than in anger, I could not help asking myself the question,
Had the advantages obtained in witnessing the performance balanced
the expense incurred in securing a seat? I am forced to reply in the
negative, as I sign myself regretfully,
ONE WHO PAID FOR A PLACE IN THE PIT.
* * * * *
OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.
I see three ladies in a drawing-room, each with a green volume. "What
is it?" No, they won't hear. Each one is intent on her volume, and an
irritable answer, in a don't bother kind of manner, is all that I can
obtain. The novel is Miss BRADDON's latest, _One Life, One Love_ (but
three volumes, for all that), in which they are absorbed. Later on,
at intervals, I get the volumes, and, raven-like, secrete them. I can
quite understand the absorption of my young friends. Marvellous, Miss
BRADDON! Very few have approached you in sensation-writing, and none
in keeping up sensationalism as fresh as ever it was when first I
sat up at night nervously to read _Aurora Floyd_, and _Lady Audley's
Secret_.
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