Призрак Оперы
VIII The Mysterious Brougham
HefoundadifficultyincollectinghisthoughtsandbringingthemtobearonMammaValerius’"goodgenius,"ontheAngelofMusicofwhomChristinehadspokentohimsostrangely,onthedeath’sheadwhichhehadseeninasortofnightmareonthehighaltaratPerrosandalsoontheOperaghost,whosefamehadcometohisearsoneeveningwhenhewasstandingbehindthescenes,withinhearingofagroupofscene-shifterswhowererepeatingtheghastlydescriptionwhichthehangedman,JosephBuquet,hadgivenoftheghostbeforehismysteriousdeath.
Heaskedinalowvoice:"WhatmakesyouthinkthatChristineisfondofme,madame?"
"Sheusedtospeakofyoueveryday."
"Really?...Andwhatdidshetellyou?"
"Shetoldmethatyouhadmadeheraproposal!"
Andthegoodoldladybeganlaughingwholeheartedly.Raoulsprangfromhischair,flushingtothetemples,sufferingagonies.
"What’sthis?Whereareyougoing?Sitdownagainatonce,willyou?...DoyouthinkIwillletyougolikethat?...Ifyou’reangrywithmeforlaughing,Ibegyourpardon...Afterall,whathashappenedisn’tyourfault...Didn’tyouknow?...DidyouthinkthatChristinewasfree?..."
"IsChristineengagedtobemarried?"thewretchedRaoulasked,inachokingvoice.
"Whyno!Whyno!...YouknowaswellasIdothatChristinecouldn’tmarry,evenifshewantedto!"
"ButIdon’tknowanythingaboutit!...Andwhycan’tChristinemarry?"
"BecauseoftheAngelofMusic,ofcourse!..."
"Idon’tfollow..."
"Yes,heforbidsherto!..."
"Heforbidsher!...
