Призрак Оперы
XX In The Cellars Of The Opera
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Thereupon,RaoulandthePersiansawthestartledfacesofthejointmanagersappearabovethelanding—andtheyheardMoncharmin’sexcitedvoice:
"Therearethingshappeninghere,Mr.Commissary,whichweareunabletoexplain."
Andthetwofacesdisappeared.
"Thankyoufortheinformation,gentlemen,"saidMifroid,withajeer.
Butthestage-manager,holdinghischininthehollowofhisrighthand,whichistheattitudeofprofoundthought,said:
"ItisnotthefirsttimethatMauclairhasfallenasleepinthetheater.Irememberfindinghim,oneevening,snoringinhislittlerecess,withhissnuff-boxbesidehim."
"Isthatlongago?"askedM.Mifroid,carefullywipinghiseye-glasses.
"No,notsoverylongago...Waitabit!...Itwasthenight...ofcourse,yes...ItwasthenightwhenCarlotta—youknow,Mr.Commissary—gaveherfamous’co-ack’!"
"Really?ThenightwhenCarlottagaveherfamous’co-ack’?"
AndM.Mifroid,replacinghisgleamingglassesonhisnose,fixedthestage-managerwithacontemplativestare.
"SoMauclairtakessnuff,doeshe?"heaskedcarelessly.
"’Yes,Mr.Commissary...Look,thereishissnuff-boxonthatlittleshelf...Oh!he’sagreatsnuff-taker!"
"SoamI,"saidMifroidandputthesnuff-boxinhispocket.
RaoulandthePersian,themselvesunobserved,watchedtheremovalofthethreebodiesbyanumberofscene-shifters,whowerefollowedbythecommissaryandallthepeoplewithhim.Theirstepswereheardforafewminutesonthestageabove.WhentheywerealonethePersianmadeasigntoRaoultostandup.
