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Updated: May 26, 2025
Richard began bellowing anew, but Moncharmin authoritatively ordered him to be silent. "Allow me! Allow me! Let the woman explain herself. Let me question her." And he added: "It is really astonishing that you should take up such a tone! ... We are on the verge of clearing up the whole mystery. And you're in a rage! ... You're wrong to behave like that... I'm enjoying myself immensely." Mme.
"Did you notice how they treat us with regard to Carlotta, Sorelli and Little Jammes?" "Why, my dear fellow, these two are mad with jealousy! To think that they went to the expense of, an advertisement in the Revue Theatrale! Have they nothing better to do?" "By the way," said Moncharmin, "they seem to be greatly interested in that little Christine Daae!"
As for the managers, they looked at each other, when the curtain fell. "That's one!" said Moncharmin. "Yes, the ghost is late," said Firmin Richard. "It's not a bad house," said Moncharmin, "for 'a house with a curse on it."
"The Comte de Chagny?" "Yes, he spoke to me in her favor with such warmth that, if I had not known him to be Sorelli's friend ..." "Really? Really?" said Moncharmin. "And who is that pale young man beside him?" "That's his brother, the viscount." "He ought to be in his bed. He looks ill." The stage rang with gay song: "Red or white liquor, Coarse or fine! What can it matter, So we have wine?"
"On my soul," sighed Moncharmin, who was ready to swoon, "on my soul, I swear that I haven't got it!" Then somebody knocked at the door.
M. Richard smiled and pointed to a fat, rather vulgar woman, dressed in black, sitting in a stall in the middle of the auditorium with a man in a broadcloth frock-coat on either side of her. "Who on earth are 'those?" asked Moncharmin. "'Those, my dear fellow, are my concierge, her husband and her brother." "Did you give them their tickets?"
"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said the old woman, in self-excuse, "you told me to act as though you knew nothing ... Well, if you knew nothing, I should go away with your envelope!" "And then how would you slip it into my pocket?" argued Richard, whom Moncharmin fixed with his left eye, while keeping his right on Mme.
"I am sure of my servants ... and if one of them had done it, he would have disappeared since." Moncharmin shrugged his shoulders, as though to say that he did not wish to enter into details, and Richard began to think that Moncharmin was treating him in a very insupportable fashion. "Moncharmin, I've had enough of this!" "Richard, I've had too much of it!" "Do you dare to suspect me?"
"And he takes his vermouth at Tortoni's with Lagrene, Scholl and Pertuiset, the lion-hunter," added Moncharmin. "We shall have the whole press against us! He'll tell the story of the ghost; and everybody will be laughing at our expense! We may as well be dead as ridiculous!" "All right, say no more about it." At that moment the door opened.
"I did ... My concierge had never been to the Opera this is, the first time and, as she is now going to come every night, I wanted her to have a good seat, before spending her time showing other people to theirs." Moncharmin asked what he meant and Richard answered that he had persuaded his concierge, in whom he had the greatest confidence, to come and take Mme. Giry's place.
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