`What's this? Where are you going? Sit down again at once, will you?...Do you think I will let you go like that?...If you're angry with me for laughing, I beg your pardon... After all, what has happened isn't your fault... Didn't you know?...Did you think that Christine was free?...'

`Is Christine engaged to be married?' the wretched Raoul asked, in a choking voice.

`Why no! Why no!...You know as well as I do that Christine couldn't marry, even if she wanted to!

`But I don't know anything about it!...And why can't Christine marry?'

`Because of the Angel of Music, of course!...'

`I don't follow...'

`Yes, he forbids her to!...'

`He forbids her!...The Angel of Music forbids her to marry!'

`Oh, he forbids her...without forbidding her. It's like this: he tells her that, if she got married, she would never hear him again. That's all!...And that he would go away for ever! .. So, you understand, she can't let the Angel of Music go. It's quite natural.'

`Yes, yes,' echoed Raoul submissively, `it's quite natural.'

`Besides, I thought Christine had told you all that, when she met you at Perros, where she went with her good genius.'

`Oh, she went to Perros with her good genius, did she?'

`That is to say, he arranged to meet her down there, in Perros churchyard, at Daaé's grave. He promised to play her The Resurrection of Lazarus on her father's violin!'

Raoul de Chagny rose and, with a very authoritative air, pronounced these peremptory words:

`Madame, you will have the goodness to tell me where that genius lives.'

The old lady did not seem surprised at this indiscreet command. She raised her eyes and said:

`In Heaven!'

Such simplicity baffled him. He did not know what to say in the presence of this candid and perfect faith in a genius who came down nightly from Heaven to haunt the dressing-rooms at the Opera.

He now realized the possible state of mind of a girl brought up between a superstitious fiddler and a visionary old lady and he shuddered when he thought of the consequences of it all.

`Is Christine still a good girl?' he asked suddenly, in spite of himself.

`I swear it, as I hope to be saved!' exclaimed the old woman, who, this time, seemed to be incensed. `And, if you doubt it, sir, I don't know what you are here for!'

Raoul tore at his gloves.

`How long has she known this `genius?''

`About three months....Yes, it's quite three months since he began to give her lessons.'