dessert and music

Daloga came to the bakery the next day and said that Eric had tacitly accepted Hilda's use of his secret passage.So she started running to the basement three times a day.

In the morning, she would often send some croissants, which were of course much better than the longer-lasting bread Eric bought-after all, the process of making croissants is not easy at all.

Hilda prepares the yeast dough ahead of time, and since it is a shortcrust bread, it takes a lot of time to stack layers of cream and dough.She also sometimes sees extra raspberries and kneads them into the dough to make two-tone croissants—layers of pink raspberry dough and dough flavored with almonds are a laborious and time-consuming task. The work - usually she will lose strength after rolling several layers of arms, but only in this way can she make beautiful and delicious croissants.

At noon, she would buy some fresh vegetables and chicken. She learned from Daloga that Eric hadn't eaten well since he moved below the theater and that his biological clock was disturbed by being in a dark environment for a long time.

Oh no, it would be nice for Eric to be in bed.He spends most of his time writing and seeing Christine.

Hilda curled her lips, took the dinner she had prepared for Eric, opened the secret door and walked in.She raised the kerosene lamp with her left hand, the dim light illuminated the dim tunnel, and she walked to the underground of the Paris Opera House with ease.

But the light from the kerosene lamp was too weak. Every time Hilda turned a corner, she would always touch the wall, and her skirt would be wet by the water on the wall.

"Sir?" Hilda put down the light, "It's past 7 o'clock in the evening." "I'm in the living room." Eric's voice came from inside.Hilda was very puzzled by this, usually at this time he would be composing his own music, but she still went to the hall with the basket.

Eric was kneeling on the ground at this moment, holding the white gauze in both hands, and was sewing something carefully.Hilda had never seen such a gentle Eric, and she moved closer to see what he was doing.

It's a wedding dress!Eric is making a pure white wedding dress, and he is carefully sewing some small diamonds.The wedding dress is wildly out of place in Eric's basement, but somehow harmonious.

"It's beautiful..." Hilda whispered.Eric paused and said, "If only she said the same thing." Her? "Is that Christine, sir?" Hilda asked cautiously.Eric suddenly shouted at her loudly: "This is none of your business, Miss! Could it be that you are still missing the torture chamber... Oh, my torture chamber must be very lonely, after all, there has been no fresh blood for so long... ...isn't it, Hilda?"

Hilda's body tightened in fright, and the basket in her hand fell to the ground.

"Thank you very much," said Eric, standing up, tugging at Hilda's arm, "you curious Pandora, you don't know what your curiosity will do to you—does Bouquet know that? Meddling with other people's business, claiming to have seen me turn the theater into a mess...I put him in the torture chamber and he hanged himself within a short while, what a guy without perseverance."

"But——" Eric turned to her, "Aren't you the same, Hilda?" His eyes were full of expectation, his voice seemed to have the power to confuse people, and she seemed to be about to fall into it...

Hilda pinched herself with the last of her lucidity and freed Eric's hand.

"I'm afraid of death! Monsieur!" she cried. "I'll beg to die in the torture chamber like that Bouquet, and I'll slam my head into those hot mirrors!"

Eric stared at her and suddenly laughed, and said disappointedly: "Sure enough, you are the same as those short-lived people." He grabbed Hilda's arm vigorously again, pushed her into the secret passage, and closed the door forcefully.

"Pa—" The world seemed to be quiet all of a sudden, Hilda was lying on the ground, the water on the ground splashed onto her hair and face, and her clothes were almost completely soaked.She looked up and found a light approaching her in the distance.

Hilda waved and called, "Daloka! It's me! Here I am!" The light came closer, and Daloka, holding a row of candles in his hand, came towards Hilda.He frowned: "Why do you look like this? Is it Eric?" "It's my fault, I'm too curious." Hilda blamed herself.

Daloja pulled her up and sent Hilda back to the bakery again.

"Eric's temper has been very violent these days, you know. Christine seems to be eloping with a noble young man, and in a few weeks Christine will go to visit her father in the cemetery and leave Paris with him ’” Daloja said to Hilda, “that’s all I know.”

Hilda didn't know why he was reminding her about Christine, and she was about to ask. "If Christine and that young man leave Paris, Eric will probably commit suicide, and he will most likely be buried with the whole of Paris. Hilda, Christine is his hope of survival." Daroga added Said, "I went to the basement secretly a few days ago...there are a few more wooden barrels in there——the wooden barrels filled with filth!"

If Christine and the young man leave Paris, I'm afraid Eric will really use those weapons.

"There are so many bombs...at least half of Paris can be blown up." Daloga added.

Hilda knew why Daloja had told her the news.Despite the man's violent temper, conceit and low self-esteem, she did not want Eric to die, but Paris, the city where she grew up, should not be destroyed either.

"I see, I will stop them," she said to Daloja.

"Ha, I knew you were a smart little girl." Daloga found a seat in the shop, "Don't you plan to give some rewards to your informants?"

Hilda took a piece of Napoleon cake from the bakery and said, "Of course, I won't treat my informant badly."

The author has something to say:

I'm so hungry, I want to eat bread.