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Updated: June 7, 2025


The part of Margarita shall be sung this evening by Christine Daae. Never mind about Carlotta; she will be ill. I absolutely insist upon the good and loyal services of Mme. Giry, my box-keeper, whom you will reinstate in her functions forthwith. Let me know by a letter handed to Mme.

"Ah, we are delighted ... Look here, Mme. Giry," said Richard, in the tone of making an important confidence. "We may just as well tell you, among ourselves ... you're no fool!" "Why, sir," exclaimed the box-keeper, stopping the pleasant nodding of the black feathers in her dingy bonnet, "I assure you no one has ever doubted that!" "We are quite agreed and we shall soon understand one another.

She went up to the door and, in a quavering voice, asked: "Who's there?" But nobody answered. Then feeling all eyes upon her, watching her last movement, she made an effort to show courage, and said very loudly: "Is there any one behind the door?" "Oh, yes, yes! Of course there is!" cried that little dried plum of a Meg Giry, heroically holding Sorelli back by her gauze skirt.

And the note was accompanied by the usual envelope. They had only to insert the notes. This was done about half an hour before the curtain rose on the first act of Faust. Richard showed the envelope to Moncharmin. Then he counted the twenty thousand-franc notes in front of him and put the notes into the envelope, but without closing it. "And now," he said, "let's have Mother Giry in."

The inspector thought he could go and was gently oh, so gently! sidling toward the door, when M. Richard nailed the man to the floor with a thundering: "Stay where you are!" M. Remy had sent for the box-keeper to the Rue de Provence, close to the Opera, where she was engaged as a porteress. She soon made her appearance. "What's your name?" "Mme. Giry.

"Why, of course not," she said. "Well, look." Mine. Giry looked into the envelope with a lackluster eye, which soon recovered its brilliancy. "Thousand-franc notes!" she cried. "Yes, Mme. Giry, thousand-franc notes! And you knew it!" "I, sir? I? ... I swear ..." "Don't swear, Mme. Giry! ... And now I will tell you the second reason why I sent for you. Mme. Giry, I am going to have you arrested."

"I was just wanting to see you, sir, and talk to you about it, so that you mightn't have the same unpleasantness as M. Debienne and M. Poligny. They wouldn't listen to me either, at first." "I'm not asking you about all that. I'm asking what happened last night." Mme. Giry turned purple with indignation. Never had she been spoken to like that.

Maria, a dancer, became Baronne d'Herneville. Theresa Hessier, a dancer, married Dom Fernando, brother to the King of Portugal. Richard and Moncharmin listened to the old woman, who, as she proceeded with the enumeration of these glorious nuptials, swelled out, took courage and, at last, in a voice bursting with pride, flung out the last sentence of the prophetic letter: 1885. Meg Giry, Empress!

They examined it and saw that it was fastened with seals stamped with their own managerial seal. They opened it. It contained twenty Bank of St. Farce notes like those which had so much astounded them the month before. "How simple!" said Richard. "How simple!" repeated Moncharmin. And he continued with his eyes fixed upon Mme. Giry, as though trying to hypnotize her.

It was arranged between Richard and Moncharmin, first, that Richard should repeat the exact movements which he had made on the night of the disappearance of the first twenty-thousand francs; and, second, that Moncharmin should not for an instant lose sight of Richard's coat-tail pocket, into which Mme. Giry was to slip the twenty-thousand francs.

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