nine o'clock
Upon occasions there had actually been more persons in the orchestra than in the audience . Seated in the foyer , with one eye upon a shabby programme girl and another upon the street outside , Xavier would sometimes refer to these facts in conversation with a titled patron , and would describe the public realistically and without pretence of illusion . Nevertheless , Xavier had grown to be a rich man , for percentages were his hourly food ; he received them even from programme sellers . At nine o'clock the hall was rather less than half full , and this was rightly regarded as very promising , for the management , like the management of every place of distraction in Paris , held it a point of honour to start from twenty to thirty minutes late -- as though all Parisians had many ages ago decided that in Paris one could not be punctual , and that , long since tired of waiting for each other , they had entered into a competition to make each other wait , the individual who arrived last being universally regarded as the winner . The members of the orchestra were filing negligently in from the back of the vast terraced platform , yawning , and ravaged by the fearful ennui of eternal high-class music . They entered in dozens and scores , and they kept on entering , and as they gazed inimically at each other , fingering their instruments , their pale faces seemed to be asking : `` Why should it be necessary to collect so many of us in order to prove that just one single human being can play the violin ? We can all play the violin , or something else just as good .