g? ... For what
hell are you leaving, mysterious lady ... or for what paradise?"

"I came to tell you, dear, but I can't tell you now ... you would not
believe me! You have lost faith in me, Raoul; it is finished!"

She spoke in such a despairing voice that the lad began to feel remorse
for his cruelty.

"But look here!" he cried. "Can't you tell me what all this means!
... You are free, there is no one to interfere with you... You go
about Paris ... You put on a domino to come to the ball... Why do you
not go home? ... What have you been doing this past fortnight? ... What
is this tale about the Angel of Music, which you have been telling
Mamma Valerius? Some one may have taken you in, played upon your
innocence. I was a witness of it myself, at Perros ... but you know
what to believe now! You seem to me quite sensible, Christine. You
know what you are doing ... And meanwhile Mamma Valerius lies waiting
for you at home and appealing to your 'good genius!' ... Explain
yourself, Christine, I beg of you! Any one might have been deceived as
I was. What is this farce?"

Christine simply took off her mask and said: "Dear, it is a tragedy!"

Raoul now saw her face and could not restrain an exclamation of
surprise and terror. The fresh complexion of former days was gone. A
mortal pallor covered those features, which he had known so charming
and so gentle, and sorrow had furrowed them with pitiless lines and
traced dark and unspeakably sad shadows under her eyes.

"My dearest! My dearest!" he moaned, holding out his arms. "You
promised to forgive me ..."

"Perhaps! ... Some day, perhaps!" she said, resuming her mask; and she
went away, forbidding him, with a gesture, to follow her.

He tried to disobey her; but she turned round and repeated her gesture
of farewell with such authority that he dared not move a step.

He watched her till she was out of sight. Then he also went down among
the crowd, hardly knowing what he was doing, with throbbing temples and
an aching heart; and, as he crossed the dancing-floor, he asked if
anybody had seen Red Death. Yes, every one had seen Red Death; but
Raoul could not find him; and, at two o'clock in the morning, he turned
down the passage, behind the scenes, that led to Christine Daae's
dressing-room.

His footsteps took him to that room where he had first known suffering.
He tapped at the door. There was no answer. He entered, as he had
entered when he looke