Chapter 6
"Please" begged Marianne, tearful now. She felt so violated by this intruder. Whoever it was had calmly watched her as she laid bare her deepest and most secret emotions. It was almost as it they had looked into her soul.
Eventually, she heard rustling and a voice spoke to
her:
"Forgive my child. I did not mean to startle you. I was
roaming the Opera House as I often do, and I stumbled upon you
singing. I would not, of course, have listened, but your voice
stirred something in me. You sing..." The voice trailed off, but
before it did she noted its melodious and strangely resonant quality.
"Who...who are you?" she asked haltingly.
"My
name is not important. I am a composer. I write music for the Opera."
A further rustle signalled to Marianne that he was leaving. She
called to him:
"Wait! Sir, wait! You are not...you are not
Monsieur Taphmon by any chance?"
The figure paused and then
replied,
"I am he."