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Updated: May 13, 2025
"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?"
"What is certain is that, though your carriage and Sorelli's and Carlotta's are still there, by the Rotunda pavement, M. le Comte de Chagny's carriage is gone." "This has nothing to say to ..." "I beg your pardon. Was not M. le Comte opposed to your marriage with Mlle. Daae?" "That is a matter that only concerns the family."
And he added, under his breath: "Those youngsters with their school-girl airs! So he's a Chagny after all!" He turned to go to Sorelli's dressing-room, but met her on the way, with her little troop of trembling ballet-girls, as we have seen. Meanwhile, Christine Daae uttered a deep sigh, which was answered by a groan. She turned her head, saw Raoul and started.
And she locked the door. Sorelli's dressing-room was fitted up with official, commonplace elegance. A pier-glass, a sofa, a dressing-table and a cupboard or two provided the necessary furniture. On the walls hung a few engravings, relics of the mother, who had known the glories of the old Opera in the Rue le Peletier; portraits of Vestris, Gardel, Dupont, Bigottini.
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