the viscount, who, of course, was present, was the only one to suffer on hearing the thousand echoes of this fresh triumph;for christine still wore her plain gold ring.a distant voice whispered in the young man's ear:
"she is wearing the ring again to-night; and you did not give it to her.she gave her soul again tonight and did not give it to you.
...if she will not tell you what she has been doing the past two days...you must go and ask erik!"he ran behind the scenes and placed himself in her way.she saw him for her eyes were looking for him.she said:
"quick! quick!...come!"
and she dragged him to her dressing-room.
raoul at once threw himself on his knees before her.he swore to her that he would go and he entreated her never again to withhold a single hour of the ideal happiness which she had promised him.
she let her tears flow.they kissed like a despairing brother and sister who have been smitten with a common loss and who meet to mourn a dead parent.
suddenly, she snatched herself from the young man's soft and timid embrace, seemed to listen to something, and, with a quick gesture, pointed to the door.when he was on the threshold, she said, in so low a voice that the viscount guessed rather than heard her words:
"to-morrow, my dear betrothed! and be happy, raoul: i sang for you to-night!"he returned the next day.but those two days of absence had broken the charm of their delightful make-believe.they looked at each other, in the dressing-room, with their sad eyes, without exchanging a word.
raoul had to restrain himself not to cry out:
"i am jealous! i am jealous! i am jealous!"but she heard him all the same.then she said: