Heaven, in the name of your father who is in Heaven now and who loved you so dearly and who loved me too, Christine, tell us, tell your benefactress and me, to whom does that voice belong? If you do, we will save you in spite of yourself. Come, Christine, the name of the man! The name of the man who had the audacity to put a ring on your finger!”
“ M. de Chagny,” the girl declared coldly, “you shall never know!”
Thereupon, seeing the hostility with which her ward had addressed the viscount, Mamma Valérius suddenly took Christine’s part.
“And, if she does love that man, monsieur le vicomte , even then it is no business of yours!”
“Alas, madame,” Raoul humbly replied, unable to restrain his tears, “alas, I believe that Christine really does love him! … But it is not only that which drives me to despair; for what I am not certain of, madame, is that the man whom Christine loves is worthy of her love!”
“It is for me to be the judge of that, monsieur!” said Christine, looking Raoul angrily in the face.
“When a man,” continued Raoul, “adopts such romantic methods to entice a young girl’s affections …”
“The man must be either a villain, or the girl a fool: is that it?”
“Christine!”
“Raoul, why do you condemn a man whom you have never seen, whom no one knows and about whom you yourself know nothing?”
“Yes, Christine. … Yes. … I at least know the name that you thought to keep from me forever. … The name of your Angel of Music, mademoiselle, is Erik!”