The Commissary, the Viscount and the Persian
The first words of the commissary of police, on entering the managers’ office, were to ask after the missing prima donna.
“Is Christine Daaé here?”
“Christine Daaé here?” echoed Richard. “No. Why?”
As for Moncharmin, he had not the strength left to utter a word.
Richard repeated, for the commissary and the compact crowd which had followed him into the office observed an impressive silence.
“Why do you ask if Christine Daaé is here, M. le commissaire ?”
“Because she has to be found,” declared the commissary of police solemnly.
“What do you mean, she has to be found? Has she disappeared?”
“In the middle of the performance!”
“In the middle of the performance? This is extraordinary!”
“Isn’t it? And what is quite as extraordinary is that you should first learn it from me!”
“Yes,” said Richard, taking his head in his hands and muttering. “What is this new business? Oh, it’s enough to make a man send in his resignation!”