“I came to tell you, dear, but I can’t tell you now⁠ ⁠… you would not believe me! You have lost faith in me, Raoul; it is finished!”

She spoke in such a despairing voice that the lad began to feel remorse for his cruelty.

“But look here!” he cried. “Can’t you tell me what all this means!⁠ ⁠… You are free, there is no one to interfere with you.⁠ ⁠… You go about Paris.⁠ ⁠… You put on a domino to come to the ball.⁠ ⁠… Why do you not go home?⁠ ⁠… What have you been doing this past fortnight?⁠ ⁠… What is this tale about the Angel of Music, which you have been telling Mamma Valérius? Someone may have taken you in, played upon your innocence. I was a witness of it myself, at Perros⁠ ⁠… but you know what to believe now! You seem to me quite sensible, Christine. You know what you are doing.⁠ ⁠… And meanwhile Mamma Valérius lies waiting for you at home and appealing to your ‘good genius!’⁠ ⁠… Explain yourself, Christine, I beg of you! Anyone might have been deceived as I was. What is this farce?”