ten minutes to three
St. James ' Hall was packed from end to end one summer afternoon by an eager mob of music lovers -- or , at least , of those who counted themselves as such . The last Philharmonic Concert of the season had been announced ; and as one of its items was Beethoven 's Ninth Symphony , the crowd was , as usual on such an occasion , a great and enthusiastic one . Even the dark little gallery near the roof , fronting the orchestra , was well filled , for there are music lovers -LRB- mostly those whose purse is lean -RRB- who declare that , though the shilling gallery is hot , and close , and dark , there is in all the room no better place for hearing the great waves of sound rolled out by the orchestra from the Master 's mighty scores . And it was for this reason that Lettice Campion came up the narrow stairs that afternoon at ten minutes to three , and found , as she might have expected , that only a few seats against the wall remained empty . Into the nearest of these she dropped , rather exhausted by her climb and the haste that she had made ; and then she noticed , as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light , that some one beside her had half turned round , and was looking earnestly into her face . `` Alan ! '' The color sprang into Lettice 's face : the roll of music that she carried dropped from her lap as she held out her hand .