Три мушкетери

The Countess De Winter

           Ibrokemyword,itistrue;butwhatsignifiesthat?Iobeyedmylove;andhaveInotbeenrichlypaidforthatobedience?ItwastothatobedienceIoweherportrait."

           D’Artagnanwasamazedtonotebywhatfragileandunknownthreadsthedestiniesofnationsandthelivesofmenaresuspended.Hewaslostinthesereflectionswhenthegoldsmithentered.HewasanIrishmanoneofthemostskillfulofhiscraft,andwhohimselfconfessedthathegainedahundredthousandlivresayearbytheDukeofBuckingham.

           "Mr.O’Reilly,"saidtheduke,leadinghimintothechapel,"lookatthesediamondstuds,andtellmewhattheyareworthapiece."

           Thegoldsmithcastaglanceattheelegantmannerinwhichtheywereset,calculated,onewithanother,whatthediamondswereworth,andwithouthesitationsaid,"Fifteenhundredpistoleseach,myLord."

           "Howmanydayswoulditrequiretomaketwostudsexactlylikethem?Youseetherearetwowanting."

           "Eightdays,myLord."

           "IwillgiveyouthreethousandpistolesapieceifIcanhavethembythedayaftertomorrow."

           "MyLord,theyshallbeyours."

           "Youareajewelofaman,Mr.O’Reilly;butthatisnotall.Thesestudscannotbetrustedtoanybody;itmustbedoneinthepalace."

           "Impossible,myLord!Thereisnoonebutmyselfcansoexecutethemthatonecannottellthenewfromtheold."

           "Therefore,mydearMr.O’Reilly,youaremyprisoner.Andifyouwishevertoleavemypalace,youcannot;somakethebestofit.

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 297 з 894