At the Masked Ball

The envelope was covered with mud and unstamped. It bore the words "To
be handed to M. le Vicomte Raoul de Chagny," with the address in
pencil. It must have been flung out in the hope that a passer-by would
pick up the note and deliver it, which was what happened. The note had
been picked up on the pavement of the Place de l'Opera.

Raoul read it over again with fevered eyes. No more was needed to
revive his hope. The somber picture which he had for a moment imagined
of a Christine forgetting her duty to herself made way for his original
conception of an unfortunate, innocent child, the victim of imprudence
and exaggerated sensibility. To what extent, at this time, was she
really a victim? Whose prisoner was she? Into what whirlpool had she
been dragged? He asked himself these questions with a cruel anguish;
but even this pain seemed endurable beside the frenzy into which he was
thrown at the thought of a lying and deceitful Christine. What had
happened? What influence had she undergone? What monster had carried
her off and by what means? ...

By what means indeed but that of music? He knew Christine's story.
After her father's death, she acquired a distaste of everything in
life, including her art. She went through the CONSERVATOIRE like a
poor soulless singing-machine. And, suddenly, she awoke as though
through the intervention of a god. The Angel of Music appeared upon
the scene! She sang Margarita in FAUST and triumphed! ...

The Angel of Music! ... For three months the Angel of Music had been
giving Christine lessons ... Ah, he was a punctual singing-master! ...
And now he was taking her for drives in the Bois! ...