sat behind a small counter, and then composedly sit down on a bench
while she said, "We shall have some time to wait for our luxury:" then
showing me the tickets, "Twelve and thirteen: it is a full night, and
all these people ahead of us."

"Is it a lottery?" I asked ignorantly.

"Very much of a lottery," Afra replied grimly--"like all the ways of
Bohemia, remarkably uncertain. You get a ticket for something in the
giving of the Muses, and you wait until your number is called. The
worst of it is, the most unlikely people are called before you, and
some get disgusted and leave: there goes one out at the door at this
moment. Well, he may be better or he may be worse off than those who
finally win: who knows if any race is worth the running? Still, if you
have courage to hold on, I believe there is no doubt that every one
ultimately gets something." Seeing my perplexity, she twisted the
round tickets between her fingers and added, "Do not be alarmed: these
are only good for a seat in the first empty 'bus that comes up. The
conductor will call out the numbers in rotation, and if ours is among
them we shall go. It is frightful that you have never ridden in a 'bus
before. I wonder where we should get ideas if we shut ourselves up in
cabs and never walked or were hungry or tired, and thought only of our
own comfort from morning till night? You don't know what you miss, you
poor deluded, unfortunate rich people. I will tell you of something
I saw the other evening; and, as it is worthy of a name, it shall be
called 'The Romance of an Omnibus.' Listen! isn't that our numbers I
heard? Yes: come quick or we shall lose our chance."

"Well," said I when we had successfully threaded the crowd and were
seated--"the romance."