Chapter 2
Thunderous applause filled the Opera house. As Marianne looked on she saw the star's exquisite face fill with triumphant pleasure. As much as she envied Christine, it was impossible to dislike anyone who showed so much kindness and consideration to even the lowliest stage-hand, and who had not allowed such vaulting renown as was now hers to change her. After almost fifteen minutes, filled with clapping, cheering and enraptured shouts for an encore, Christine left the stage. As she passed the dancers she caught Marianne's eye and smiled. Although she knew the dancer but little, and was well aware that her talent was far below the standard of the rest of the troupe, a sympathetic note in her ethereal face struck Christine. The now-primma Donna recognised the look of loneliness and longing in the girl's eyes. She had been used to seeing it every morning in the mirror, and, etched upon her memory forever was the vision of her angel of music's despairing farewell. Yes, by God, Christine saw the poor child's loneliness. The look lasted hardly a second, but in her heart, Marianne felt a glimmer of the warmth which comes from true empathy. In a minute, the singer had been swept into her dressing room.
As
the dancers, chorus and stage hands scattered, wishing to enjoy the
festivities which were being held in the green-room to celebrate the
gala night, Marianne herself began to traipse solitarily away from
the stage. As she made her way silently towards the cacophonic sound
of voices which escaped the celebratory crowd, she passed a bouquet
of roses which had clearly been dropped by Christine as she made her
way, laden with flowers, to her private room. Always eager to oblige,
Marianne scooped up the beautiful armful, and walked quickly towards
the door. As she was about to knock on the gold-brushed panelling she
suddenly heard voices from within. She recognised them immediately as
those of Christine and her husband, Raoul de Chagney. Not wanting to
intrude on a private conversation, Marianne paused, hoping to
ascertain whether they would mind interruption. Far from an argument,
she heard the deep and quiet voice of the singer filled with joy and
gladness, and the viscount's expressing similar emotion.
"Are
you sure my Darling?" asked the patron, with a sense of both
urgency and excitement.
"Perfectly. Oh Raoul, isn't this
wonderful. We've only been married for three months, and to add to
the great blessing God has sent me in you, he has blessed us with a
child."
"Wonderful! I couldn't be happier! Let us
announce it to the company this very night!"
Marianne
quietly placed the bouquet in front of the dressing-room door, and
ran towards the green room, her head filled with what she had just
heard. The Primma Donna! Pregnant! She slipped silently through the
doors, and joined the party, unnoticed and unobtrusive.
