The Phantom of the Opera Read Online Free PDF Page A

the crowd of gentlemen, scene-shifters, supers and chorus-girls, Raoul leading the way, feeling that his heart no longer belonged to him, his face set with passion, while Count Philippe followed him with difficulty and continued to smile. At the back of the stage, Raoul had to stop before the inrush of the little troop of ballet-girls who blocked the passage which he was trying to enter. More than one chaffing phrase darted from little made-up lips, to which he did not reply; and at last he was able to pass, and dived into the semi-darkness of a corridor ringing with the name of “Daae! Daae!” The count was surprised to find that Raoul knew the way. He had never taken him to Christine’s himself and came to the conclusion that Raoul must have gone there alone while the count stayed talking in the foyer with Sorelli, who often asked him to wait until it was her time to “go on” and sometimes handed him the little gaiters in which she ran down from her dressing-room to preserve the spotlessness of her satin dancing-shoes and her flesh-colored tights. Sorelli had an excuse; she had lost her mother.
    Postponing his usual visit to Sorelli for a few minutes, the count followed his brother down the passage that led to Daae’s dressing-room and saw that it had never been so crammed as on that evening, when the whole house seemed excited by her success and also by her fainting fit. For the girl had not yet come to; and the doctor of the theater had just arrived at the moment when Raoul entered at his heels. Christine, therefore, received the first aid of the one, while opening her eyes in the arms of the other. The count and many more remained crowding in the doorway.
    “Don’t you think, Doctor, that those gentlemen had better clear the room?” asked Raoul coolly. “There’s no breathing here.”
    “You’re quite right,” said the doctor.
    And he sent every one away, except Raoul and the maid, who looked at Raoul with eyes of the most undisguised astonishment. She had never seen him before and yet dared not question him; and the doctor imagined that the young man was only acting as he did because he had the right to. The viscount, therefore, remained in the room watching Christine as she slowly returned to life, while even the joint managers, Debienne and Poligny, who had come to offer their sympathy and congratulations, found themselves thrust into the passage among the crowd of dandies. The Comte de Chagny, who was one of those standing outside, laughed:
    “Oh, the rogue, the rogue!” And he added, under his breath: “Those youngsters with their school-girl airs! So he’s a Chagny after all!”
    He turned to go to Sorelli’s dressing-room, but met her on the way, with her little troop of trembling ballet-girls, as we have seen.
    Meanwhile, Christine Daae uttered a deep sigh, which was answered by a groan. She turned her head, saw Raoul and started. She looked at the doctor, on whom she bestowed a smile, then at her maid, then at Raoul again.
    “Monsieur,” she said, in a voice not much above a whisper, “who are you?”
    “Mademoiselle,” replied the young man, kneeling on one knee and pressing a fervent kiss on the diva’s hand, “ I am the little boy who went into the sea to rescue your scarf .”
    Christine again looked at the doctor and the maid; and all three began to laugh.
    Raoul turned very red and stood up.
    “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