I counted twenty-six different kinds; it seems that every row has a different price, else I don't understand how they could make such a variety.
At last the overture began; I listened to it, saw the curtain rise, looked at the fatal spot, and left after the first air.

The door-keeper followed me, took my arm, and wished to give me a return-ticket; and when I told him that I did not require one, as I did not intend to return, he said that it had only just commenced, and that I ought to stop, and not have spent all the money for nothing.

I was unfortunately too little acquainted with the Swedish language to explain the reason of my departure, so I could give him no answer, but went away.

I, however, heard him say to some one, "I never met with such a woman before; she sat an hour looking at the curtain, and goes away as soon as it rises." I looked round and saw how he shook his head thoughtfully, and pointed with his forefinger to his forehead.

I could not refrain from smiling, and enjoyed the scene as much as I should have done the second act of Mozart's _Don Giovanni_.
I called for my friends at the royal palace, and spent the evening very agreeably in the brilliantly-illuminated galleries of antiquities and of pictures.