"Fate links thee to me for ever and a day!"
Christine walked toward her image in the glass and the image came
toward her. The two Christines--the real one and the reflection--
ended by touching; and Raoul put out his arms to clasp the two
in one embrace. But, by a sort of dazzling miracle that sent
him staggering, Raoul was suddenly flung back, while an icy blast swept
over his face; he saw, not two, but four, eight, twenty Christines
spinning round him, laughing at him and fleeing so swiftly that he
could not touch one of them. At last, everything stood still again;
and he saw himself in the glass. But Christine had disappeared.
He rushed up to the glass. He struck at the walls. Nobody!
And meanwhile the room still echoed with a distant passionate singing:
"Fate links thee to me for ever and a day!"
Which way, which way had Christine gone?...Which way would she
return?...
Would she return? Alas, had she not declared to him that everything
was finished? And was the voice not repeating:
"Fate links thee to me for ever and a day!"
To me? To whom?
Then, worn out, beaten, empty-brained, he sat down on the chair
which Christine had just left.
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