`Mademoiselle,' he said, `since you are pleased not to recognize me, I should like to say something to you in private, something very important.'

`When I am better, do you mind?' And her voice shook. `You have been very good.'

`Yes, you must go,' said the doctor, with his pleasantest smile. `Leave me to attend to mademoiselle.'

`I am not ill now,' said Christine suddenly, with strange and unexpected energy.

She rose and passed her hand over her eyelids.

`Thank you, Doctor. I should like to be alone. Please go away, all of you. Leave me. I feel very restless this evening.'

The doctor tried to make a short protest, but, perceiving the girl's evident agitation, he thought the best remedy was not to thwart her. And he went away, saying to Raoul, outside:

`She is not herself to-night. She is usually so gentle.'

Then he said good night and Raoul was left alone. The whole of this part of the theater was now deserted. The farewell ceremony was no doubt taking place in the foyer of the ballet. Raoul thought that Daaé might go to it and he waited in the silent solitude, even hiding in the favoring shadow of a doorway. He felt a terrible pain at his heart and it was of this that he wanted to speak to Daaé without delay.

Suddenly the dressing-room door opened and the maid came out by herself, carrying bundles. He stopped her and asked how her mistress was. The woman laughed and said that she was quite well, but that he must not disturb her, for she wished to be left alone. And she passed on. One idea alone filled Raoul's burning brain: of course, Daaé wished to be left alone for him! Had he not told her that he wanted to speak to her privately?

Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man's voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:

`Christine, you must love me!'

And Christine's voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:

`How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you!'

Raoul leaned against the panel to ease his pain. His heart, which had seemed gone for ever, returned to his breast and was throbbing loudly. The whole passage echoed with its beating and Raoul's ears were deafened. Surely, if his heart continued to make such a noise, they would hear it inside, they would open the door and the young man would be turned away in disgrace. What a position for a Chagny! To be caught listening behind a door! He took his heart in his two hands to make it stop.

The man's voice spoke again: `Are you very tired?'

`Oh, to-night I gave you my soul and I am dead!' Christine replied.

`Your soul is a beautiful thing, child,' replied the grave man's voice, `and I thank you. No emperor ever received so fair a gift. The angels wept tonight.'

Raoul heard nothing after that. Nevertheless, he did not go away, but, as though he feared lest he should be caught, he returned to his dark corner, determined to wait for the man to leave the room. At one and the same time, he had learned what love meant, and hatred. He knew that he loved. He wanted