Граф Монте-Крісто

How a Gardener May Get Rid of the Dormice that Eat His Peaches

           "

           "True,thegardenisnotlarge."

           "And,then,suchasitis,itisfilledwithdormice,whoeateverything."

           "Ah,theyaremyscourges."

           "Tellme,shouldyouhavethemisfortunetoturnyourheadwhileyourright-handcorrespondentwastelegraphing"—

           "Ishouldnotseehim."

           "Thenwhatwouldhappen?"

           "Icouldnotrepeatthesignals."

           "Andthen?"

           "Nothavingrepeatedthem,throughnegligence,Ishouldbefined."

           "Howmuch?"

           "Ahundredfrancs."

           "Thetenthofyourincomethatwouldbefinework."

           "Ah,"saidtheman.

           "Hasiteverhappenedtoyou?"saidMonteCristo.

           "Once,sir,whenIwasgraftingarose-tree."

           "Well,supposeyouweretoalterasignal,andsubstituteanother?"

           "Ah,thatisanothercase;Ishouldbeturnedoff,andlosemypension."

           "Threehundredfrancs?"

           "Ahundredcrowns,yes,sir;soyouseethatIamnotlikelytodoanyofthesethings."

           "Notevenforfifteenyears’wages?Come,itisworththinkingabout?"

           "Forfifteenthousandfrancs?"

           "Yes."

           "Sir,youalarmme."

           "Nonsense.

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Roboto Lora
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