Selfish pigs!
they ain't not worth a thought. Don't you worry about them."
"But--Beethoven...."
"Don't you worry about Beethoven, neifer--ain't no better nor he
oughter be, taeke my word fur it. Lettin' you in like this 'ere!
There--there--there, my dear!"
They clung together, weeping, rocking to and fro. "Well," said the man
in the gallery, "I'm jiggered!" and crept out very softly, stumbling a
little because of the damp air which seemed to have got into his eyes
and made them smart.
As the lovers came out into the little vestibule, clinging to each
other, they did not so much as see the stranger, who stood talking to
the man in the box-office, but went straight on out into the rain, with
their umbrellas unopened in their hands.
"A good thing as the 'all people insists upon payment in advance,"
remarked the man in the box-office.
The other gave him a curious, half-contemptuous glance. "I'd like to
hear you say that in a year's time."
"Why?"
"Because that chap will be able to buy and sell a place like this a
hundred times over by then--Queen's Hall--Albert Hall--I know.
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