eight o'clock
The box was empty . Naturally I had arrived there first . I sat down , and watched the enormous house fill , but not until I had glanced into the mirror that hung on the crimson partition of the box to make sure that my appearance did no discredit to Sullivan and the great lady , his wife . At eight o'clock , when the conductor appeared at his desk to an accompaniment of applauding taps from the musicians , the house was nearly full . The four tiers sent forth a sparkle of diamonds , of silk , and of white arms and shoulders which rivalled the glitter of the vast crystal chandelier . The wide floor of serried stalls -LRB- those stalls of which one pair at least had gone for six pound ten -RRB- added their more sombre brilliance to the show , while far above , stretching away indefinitely to the very furthest roof , was the gallery -LRB- where but for Sullivan I should have been -RRB- , a mass of black spotted with white faces . Excitement was in the air : the expectation of seeing once again Rosetta Rosa , the girl with the golden throat , the mere girl who , two years ago , had in one brief month captured London , and who now , after a period of petulance , had decided to recapture London .