That's a pity. Well, one doesn't particularly need a stage to sing. I often did it in my dressing room, when I was learning...

[She sort of trails off, looking frightful for a second, as if she'ss remembering something from the past, something she'd like to forget and put behind her. Christine brings an arm close to her chest, crinkling in the fabrics of the costume, then drops it to her side, turning for a second to look behind her, almost stopping.]

Are the halls changing even as we go?