“I'm a new man, Giovanni. If you want to imitate me, you'll have to abandon the mask and get a face like this one." Erik smiled mirthlessly at his young nemesis, his teeth shining madly in the dim light of piazza. "You can't have her! She loves me. The mask won't do. You could never giver what she wants, because she wants me!" Giovanni tried to follow Meg and Roul, but each time he shifted Erik was there.”
“Pearls are for tears, Erik. Didn't you know?”
“Where are you going?" "You should go down and have supper. I'll take my lodging somewhere else." "But you can't leave me alone here. You're my husband." "They've no room for me!" "Then we both go!" She walked past Erik to open door and gently pressed it shut with her palms. He didn't resist. She recognized his anger, she could see it in his scowl. Even though the mask covered his face, she knew the contours of his flesh and knew his brows were knit and heavy above his eyes. She knew because he wouldn't look at her lest his anger spill out and slam against her like the back of his hand. How fragile his control! A battle rage inside him to pacify this darkness, to keep it from swallowing them both alive.”
“Meg reached out to Erik before he could turn away. "Are you...?" He didn't let her finish. Instead he reached inside the carriage and placed his hand tenderly behind her neck drawing her to his face. He placed hi lips softly, yet passionately on her. Hardly had he withdrawn from hers then he whispered, "Forgive me, Meg. Forgive me for wanting...?" "Ssshhh. You're here. I'm here." She raised her handkerchief and wiped the lone tear that had escaped his mask.”
“He's mine. I love him, and you can't have him, Christine. You can't have them both.”
“Meg and I dreamed ... a foolish dream that we might flee to Italy, buy a small villa in the country. I would be an eccentric recluse, and she wouldnpreform on the stage. We might yet have made a life...”