"Follow me."
I remembered the affair that my father, at about my age, had had with a musketeer at la Montansier, and although I knew that the constabulary was dissolved, I expected I was in for something of the same sort. So I followed without making any resistance, in the midst of the cheers of the audience, who testified their satisfaction at the justice that was being dealt out to me. My guide led me into the corridor, from the corridor to the office, and from the office into the street. When in the street he said, "There! don't do it again." And he returned to the theatre.
I saw that I had got off very cheaply, since my father had kept his warder attached to him for a whole week, whilst I had only been in custody for five minutes. I stood for a moment on the pavement, whilst I made this judicious reflection, and seeing that my guide had re-entered, I too decided to do the same.
"Your ticket?" said the ticket collector.
"My ticket? You took it from me just now, and, as a proof, it was a white one, for which you gave me in exchange a red ticket."
"Then what have you done with your red ticket?"
"I gave it to a woman who asked me for it."
"So that you have neither ticket nor check?"
"Why, no, I have neither ticket nor check."
"Then you cannot go in."