Граф Монте-Кристо

Madame de Saint–Meran.

           

           "Oh,"saidValentine,"wehavebeenwaitingforyouwithsuchimpatience,dearM.d’Avrigny.But,firstofall,howareMadeleineandAntoinette?"MadeleinewasthedaughterofM.d’Avrigny,andAntoinettehisniece.M.d’Avrignysmiledsadly."Antoinetteisverywell,"hesaid,"andMadeleinetolerablyso.Butyousentforme,mydearchild.ItisnotyourfatherorMadamedeVillefortwhoisill.Asforyou,althoughwedoctorscannotdivestourpatientsofnerves,Ifancyyouhavenofurtherneedofmethantorecommendyounottoallowyourimaginationtotaketoowideafield."Valentinecolored.M.d’Avrignycarriedthescienceofdivinationalmosttoamiraculousextent,forhewasoneofthephysicianswhoalwaysworkuponthebodythroughthemind."No,"shereplied,"itisformypoorgrandmother.Youknowthecalamitythathashappenedtous,doyounot?"

           "Iknownothing."saidM.d’Avrigny.

           "Alas,"saidValentine,restraininghertears,"mygrandfatherisdead."

           "M.deSaint–Meran?"

           "Yes."

           "Suddenly?"

           "Fromanapoplecticstroke."

           "Anapoplecticstroke?"repeatedthedoctor.

           "Yes,andmypoorgrandmotherfanciesthatherhusband,whomsheneverleft,hascalledher,andthatshemustgoandjoinhim.Oh,M.d’Avrigny,Ibeseechyou,dosomethingforher!"

           "Whereisshe?"

           "Inherroomwiththenotary."

           "AndM.

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