Secrets
The Opera Populaire had just commenced its new season and the champagne flowed freely. Reyer sat in a corner and coolly oversaw the festivities. Suddenly, the woman he had secretly been observing sat beside him. "M. Reyer, you must have some champagne! I've had two glasses so far," Christine Daaé giggled, resting her palm on his forearm. Staring, he resisted the desire to cover her hand with his. She leaned in close, whispering, "Don't tell my Angel, he would be terribly upset with me!" The intoxicating softness of her hair against his cheek distracted him from the peculiarity of her words.