“She told me that you had made her a proposal!”
And the good old lady began laughing wholeheartedly. Raoul sprang from his chair, flushing to the temples, suffering agonies.
“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 forever! … 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.”