"
The room was empty. A gas-jet was burning, turned down low.
He saw some writing-paper on a little desk. He thought of writing
to Christine, but he heard steps in the passage. He had only time
to hide in the inner room, which was separated from the dressing-room
by a curtain.
Christine entered, took off her mask with a weary movement and flung
it on the table. She sighed and let her pretty head fall into her
two hands. What was she thinking of? Of Raoul? No, for Raoul
heard her murmur: "Poor Erik!"
At first, he thought he must be mistaken. To begin with, he was
persuaded that, if any one was to be pitied, it was he, Raoul.
It would have been quite natural if she had said, "Poor Raoul,"
after what had happened between them. But, shaking her head,
she repeated: "Poor Erik!"
What had this Erik to do with Christine's sighs and why was she
pitying Erik when Raoul was so unhappy?
Christine began to write, deliberately, calmly and so placidly
that Raoul, who was still trembling from the effects of the tragedy
that separated them, was painfully impressed.
"What coolness!" he said to himself.
She wrote on, filling two, three, four sheets.
Pages:
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152