enough.

We arrived at theatre, where, curiously enough, all our 'bus-load
except an old woman with a basket seemed to be going in. I walked
ahead and presented the tickets. The man looked at them, and
called out: "Mr. Willowly! do you know anything about these?"
holding up my tickets. The gentleman called to, came up and
examined my tickets, and said: "Who gave you these?" I said,
rather indignantly: "Mr. Merton, of course." He said: "Merton?
Who's he?" I answered, rather sharply: "You ought to know, his
name's good at any theatre in London." He replied: "Oh! is it?
Well, it ain't no good here. These tickets, which are not dated,
were issued under Mr. Swinstead's management, which has since
changed hands." While I was having some very unpleasant words with
the man, James, who had gone upstairs with the ladies, called out:
"Come on!" I went up after them, and a very civil attendant said:
"This way, please, box H." I said to James: "Why, how on earth
did you manage it?" and to my horror he replied: "Why, paid for it
of course."

This was humiliating enough, and I could scarcely follow the play,
but I was doomed to still further humiliation. I was leaning out
of the box, when my tie--a little black bow which fastened on to
the stud by means of a new patent--fell into the pit below. A
clumsy man not noticing it, had his foot on it for ever so long
before he discovered it. He then picked it up and eventually flung
it under the next seat in disgust. What with the box incident and
the tie, I felt quite miserable. Mr. James, of Sutton, was very
good. He said: "Don't worry--no one will notice it with your
beard. That is the only advantage of growing one that I can see."