24 June, 1871

Monsieur le Comte,

I will begin by saying that I was quite resolved not to forgive you. I desperately wanted to make you pay for the injury which you inflicted on my heart. However, I am not the kind well suited to revenge; and when I saw how quickly you provided an apology and an explanation for your actions, I could not bear to hold a grudge against you. Therefore, I wholeheartedly accept your apology.

I must now offer an apology of my own for waiting these few days to write to you. We have been so busy with rehearsals that I could not find the time to write until just now. As always, the work of a Prima Ballerina for the Opera Populaire is extensive, and the managers seem to believe that no performer here has any need for time of their own.

Now that you mention it, I do recall seeing your brother hanging about the dressing rooms. I assumed at the time that perhaps he was delivering something to my room on your behalf, and then I promptly forgot about it. In love with Christine Daaé, you say? Well, though she is a rather pretty girl, I agree that it does not seem a suitable match. Not only is there the matter of rank, but also of manner. Both your brother and Miss Daaé seem rather…flighty, perhaps? She, for one, always seems to be quite lost in her own daydreams. Really a queer one, she is. Always going on with Little Meg Giry about an "angel of music" her father promised to send to her when he died.

If you do plan to speak to your brother about Christine, there is something you may want to mention. There have been some rumours about for some time that she is taking voice lessons from a mysterious stranger. No one seems to know who he is. On occasion someone has passed by her dressing room when there was seemingly no one about the Opera House, and has heard her singing with a man. No one recognizes the voice as being anyone from the opera company. We really don't know what to make of it.

The flowers you sent were absolutely lovely, ma cherie; in fact, they are still in a vase on my dressing room table. I should hope, however, that before they wither completely you will see fit to bring me a fresh bouquet in person. Perhaps we can arrange to enjoy each other's company over dinner sometime soon? All my love, etc.

Violetta Sorelli