Граф Монте-Кристо

The Room of the Retired Baker.

           InanadjoiningroomAndreasawalsoatolerablycleantablepreparedfortwo,twobottlesofwinesealed,theonewithgreen,theotherwithyellow,asupplyofbrandyinadecanter,andameasureoffruitinacabbage-leaf,cleverlyarrangedonanearthenwareplate.

           "Whatdoyouthinkofit,mylittlefellow?"saidCaderousse."Ay,thatsmellsgood!YouknowIusedtobeafamouscook;doyourecollecthowyouusedtolickyourfingers?Youwereamongthefirstwhotastedanyofmydishes,andIthinkyourelishedthemtolerably."Whilespeaking,Caderoussewentonpeelingafreshsupplyofonions.

           "But,"saidAndrea,ill-temperedly,"bymyfaith,ifitwasonlytobreakfastwithyou,thatyoudisturbedme,Iwishthedevilhadtakenyou!"

           "Myboy,"saidCaderoussesententiously,"onecantalkwhileeating.Andthen,youungratefulbeing,youarenotpleasedtoseeanoldfriend?Iamweepingwithjoy."Hewastrulycrying,butitwouldhavebeendifficulttosaywhetherjoyortheonionsproducedthegreatesteffectonthelachrymalglandsoftheoldinn-keeperofthePont-du-Gard."Holdyourtongue,hypocrite,"saidAndrea;"youloveme!"

           "Yes,Ido,ormaythedeviltakeme.Iknowitisaweakness,"saidCaderousse,"butitoverpowersme."

           "Andyetithasnotpreventedyoursendingformetoplaymesometrick.

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