"Crap."

"Honestly, I ought to kill you."

"You think I can jump out?"

"You're likely to be hit by several cars…. You should most certainly give it a try."

"Well, I think we should both try and be civilized here – if not for ourselves, then for the poor driver. And what would Christine think if you killed me?"

"I wouldn't have to tell her. I could easily convince her that somebody else had killed you and I only wanted to take her under my wing to protect her from her murderer."

"Do you truly think she's that stupid?"

"She's not stupid at all. However, she'd be more than willing to believe anything that would allow her to return to me in good conscience."

"I doubt that – she chose me."

"Is that what you think? She chose me, you dunce. Only, I loved her enough to let her go where she would be safe. You wouldn't let her go for a second, even though it was I who could make her more than happy. With you, she is content but it is only I who could let her spirit soar from its lonely cage. As a matter of fact, if you hadn't sent the police after us, I wouldn't have been forced to let her go. It's your fault that she was hurt."

"You're a liar."

"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep every night?"

"Don't forget, it is I that holds her in my arms."

"You're practically begging for me to murder you."

"Tell me, how did we get in a taxi? I thought it was 1871. Taxis don't exist in 1871."

"It's the author. She's mad as a hatter."

"Does she want me dead?"

"Well, I certainly hope she's on my side."

"Have you spoken to her?"

"Over tea."

"Dear God, she is on your side, isn't she?"

"It's likely."

"Why did you get into this taxi anyway?"

"Why did you?"

"Because – because…well, I haven't got a clue."

"Exactly. I told you the author's mad as a hatter."

"Why has she put us together anyway?"

"You tell me."

"I don't know."

"Tell me, is Christine happy?"

"Of course she is!"

"Don't answer without thought. Think about it, foolish man."

"I guess I don't know. She smiles. But to be honest, it never reaches her eyes. And she has nightmares so often I don't even know what to do. And she keeps putting off the wedding, so I can't even hold her in my arms while she sleeps."

"You mean to say the two of you haven't been married?"

"No. She doesn't even bother to make up excuses. She just says she's not ready. Maybe she's not happy."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to let her go. I guess it proves who is the better man."

"Never thought I'd hear you admit it."

"I just wish I could be everything she needed. I'm not enough, am I?"

"You might have been, you know. She could have been happy to be with you had she never known me. Sometimes, I wish I had never gotten involved in her life. But I can't make myself regret it – I love her too much."

"If I surrender her to you, I'll spend the rest of my life alone, you know. Who could be as good as our Christine?"

"You're overlooking someone."

"Who?"

"The little Meg Giry. She likes you, you know. In her own way, she's just as amazing of a girl as Christine."

"Then why don't you go after her?"

"I couldn't possibly. She's almost my little sister. Which means if you hurt her, I'll remove your face."

"Your little sister? Really?"

"As a matter of fact, I do have a heart."

"And I could court her?"

"She hasn't got anyone waiting for her. This fiasco with Christine has hurt her a bit, you know. She has gotten lost in the shuffle."

"I hadn't realized."

"She's perfect for you. She's as beautiful and kind as Christine, and not in love with a mad man."

"You're quite sure of that?"

"Absolutely."

"Then perhaps I will court her. Did you mean what you said about removing my face?"

"I'll rip it off piece by piece."

"Well, I guess we can settle this, then. You can have Christine and never bother me again. And I'll court little Giry."

"Her mother will have my address, and will write to me if you make her shed even a single tear."

"What about tears of joy?"

"I'll try to forgive you."

"You won't be beneath the Opera anymore?"

"I would never force Christine to live in that dismal Hell."

"I believe this is my stop. Goodbye, old chap."

"I'll expect to never see you again."

"The feeling is mutual."