I guess we have ...

The secret passage was narrow and stuffy, not designed for someone William's size, but at least he had a decent view of the entire dressing room from this place behind the mirror. Somewhere beyond these walls the final notes of the performance soared high and loud, and then there came a thunder of applause. William wiped the sweat from his face and checked his pocket watch. Soon...

The dressing room door opened and the lamps were lit. There she was: Willowy, red-haired, flushed and sweaty herself from the hot stage lights. Someone at the door with her was talking and she laughed in an excitable way, shooing the unseen party out two or three times and then laughing more. She kicked her shoes off and rubbed her feet, then went to the nearby wardrobe and started digging around in it. Her back was turned; this was William's chance. Quietly as he could, he pushed on the secret door. The mirror frame swung open without a sound. The carpet here was thick enough to muffle his footsteps. The girl was still busy at the wardrobe, and she was singing under her breath--not an opera piece, but something that sounded like a nursery rhyme. It masked his approach.

When she closed the wardrobe doors and saw his reflection in the mirrored front she tried to scream, but William clapped a thick hand over her mouth and another around her throat, squeezing. She fainted almost instantly. He slung her across his arms. Her bare feet dangled. A few stray locks of red hair clung to her pure white throat. William felt desire stir down. He bit his lip and checked the door; it was locked. No one could be expecting her for some time. William suspected the Phantom wouldn't like it, but he never specified she be turned in completely untouched...

But was it right?