"in order to be away from the drums."

"Well, the drums are on the right of the orchestra as you face the
stage," shouted the other impatiently; "you want to the left, then, as
you face the house."

"I want to be on the right-hand side," persisted the dentist.

Without a word the seller threw out four tickets with a magnificent,
supercilious gesture.

"There's four seats on the right-hand side, then, and you're right up
against the drums."

"But I don't want to be near the drums," protested McTeague, beginning
to perspire.

"Do you know what you want at all?" said the ticket seller with
calmness, thrusting his head at McTeague. The dentist knew that he had
hurt this young man's feelings.

"I want--I want," he stammered. The seller slammed down a plan of the
house in front of him and began to explain excitedly. It was the one
thing lacking to complete McTeague's confusion.

"There are your seats," finished the seller, shoving the tickets into
McTeague's hands. "They are the fourth row from the front, and away from
the drums. Now are you satisfied?"

"Are they on the right-hand side? I want on the right--no, I want on the