Граф Монте-Кристо

The Breakfast.

           Arichuniform,halfFrench,halfOriental,setoffhisgracefulandstalwartfigure,andhisbroadchestwasdecoratedwiththeorderoftheLegionofHonor.Theyoungofficerbowedwitheasyandelegantpoliteness."Monsieur,"saidAlbertwithaffectionatecourtesy,"thecountofChateau–Renaudknewhowmuchpleasurethisintroductionwouldgiveme;youarehisfriend,beoursalso."

           "Wellsaid,"interruptedChateau–Renaud;"andpraythat,ifyoushouldeverbeinasimilarpredicament,hemaydoasmuchforyouashedidforme."

           "Whathashedone?"askedAlbert.

           "Oh,nothingworthspeakingof,"saidMorrel;"M.deChateau–Renaudexaggerates."

           "Notworthspeakingof?"criedChateau–Renaud;"lifeisnotworthspeakingof!thatisrathertoophilosophical,onmyword,Morrel.Itisverywellforyou,whoriskyourlifeeveryday,butforme,whoonlydidsoonce"—

           "Wegatherfromallthis,baron,thatCaptainMorrelsavedyourlife."

           "Exactlyso."

           "Onwhatoccasion?"askedBeauchamp.

           "Beauchamp,mygoodfellow,youknowIamstarving,"saidDebray:"donotsethimoffonsomelongstory."

           "Well,Idonotpreventyoursittingdowntotable,"repliedBeauchamp,"Chateau–Renaudcantelluswhileweeatourbreakfast."

           "Gentlemen,"saidMorcerf,"itisonlyaquarterpastten,andIexpectsomeoneelse."

           "Ah,true,adiplomatist!"observedDebray.

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