Christine walked carefully down the street with Erik. It was ideal if nobody noticed them. But they had to get the shopping, like everybody else.

Christine didn't want people to see her husband wore a mask. The brim of his hat was pulled right down. But she still felt a bit self-conscious.

They were living right now in their own quiet apartment. But Christine would be glad when they left the city tomorrow. Then they could travel freely, and find a home away from all this.

Suddenly, they saw an unwelcome face. Raoul!

"Oh, no," said Erik, disgusted. "Walk on."

Christine felt horror in the pit of her stomach. But her ex-fiancé followed them. Her spine prickled. But he would not stop.

Eventually, Erik faced him. Christine knew he was not the type of man to back down from a fight. She sighed.

Erik approached him. Raoul tossed his head defiantly.

"Leave my bride alone," said Erik. "You are irritating her. She is not interested in anything you think, do or say."

"Your bride?" said Raoul, furious. "She was my fiancée."

Christine calmly placed her left hand over her right so Raoul could see her wedding ring. "Go, Raoul. Please go."

Raoul fumed. "I will tell the authorities about you," he said to Erik.

"Try," Erik replied.

"You are nothing but a criminal and a monster! You should be in some freak show! Go back into a cage, where you belong!"

Erik looked unpredictable. Oh no, thought Christine. What was he going to do?

At that point, three very attractive women started down the street. Raoul's head turned momentarily to look at them.

Raoul had always been like that. Back when he had been with Christine he had had a roving eye. Not even his confrontation with Erik could control his little habit.

The ladies seemed amused by the conversation. They stopped.

"My behaviour has been excellent," said Raoul to Christine. "All my conduct was impeccable. What on earth have I done that puts me beneath him?"

"You could have had any girl in the world," said Christine. "You tried to take away Erik's one chance of happiness."

Raoul stared at them, momentarily lost for words.

But he soon got into his stride.

"Your husband is a criminal. He is ugly," he said, ticking points off his fingers. "And he stinks!"

"How rude of you!" said Christine.

So he had mentioned one of her poor husband's problems. It was true Erik didn't smell too good. She was sure that would start to improve, though, once she started feeding him a better diet.

She loved him too much to let it bother her. She had gotten used to his smell by now. It was true, she thought, that love is blind. And ever since she had gotten to know Erik, she had learned love has no sense of smell either. Despite everything, she sniggered.

She knew poor Erik was livid with rage. Raoul came forward, snarling.

"He... He..." Raoul began to spit. "He is..."

At that point, Raoul lost his footing. And Christine gasped.

He began to do a mad dance on the cobblestones. And then he smacked down hard, straight on his behind.

Christine and Erik began to laugh. So did the three women who were watching. They laughed uproariously as Raoul rose to his feet, clutching his behind.

And then Christine noticed there was a bad smell rising up from the street. And it certainly wasn't her husband.

Raoul was plastered, all over his bottom and the backs of his thighs, with a dreadful swathe of dog poo. Oh, dear. And it looked like the dog which had done it had been eating something crook.

Raoul hopped around in the street. He was hopelessly rubbing his behind. "Ow! Shit! Ooh, oow..." Then, he realized he had spread the poo all over his hands. He held them up and looked at them in horror. It had taken him a while to realize what the smell was.

One of the ladies covered her face with her fan. The other two turned up their noses.

"Pig!"

"Ha ha!"

"A pig rolls in its own excreetment!"

"I think we'd better move out of here," said Erik. "There is rather a bad smell..."

Christine roared with laughter. Erik grinned. He put his hands on his hips, and faced Raoul. "No, I will not lend you my handkerchief. My oh my. Who stinks?"

Raoul cowered into a corner. "Oh, no," he moaned to himself. "What will they think of me back at the opera? I've got an appointment. I'll have to go like this."

"They'll think you are what you are. A sewer rat that lives in shit," said Erik with satisfaction. "And you can't get the girl either, can you?"

"No you can't," said Christine. She turned to Erik and snuggled up to him, lifting his hand and kissing it. She smiled, and gestured to him. "At least he's clean."

Raoul mumbled a curse. Christine and Erik walked down the street, laughing and swinging their clasped hands. And that was the last he would see of them.