Граф Монте-Крісто

The Dinner.

           "

           "Whatistheremore?"saidDebray,whohadnotfailedtonoticetheagitationofMadameDanglars.

           "Ah,whatelseisthere?"saidDanglars;"for,atpresent,IcannotsaythatIhaveseenanythingextraordinary.Whatdoyousay,M.Cavalcanti?"

           "Ah,"saidhe,"wehaveatPisa,Ugolino’stower;atFerrara,Tasso’sprison;atRimini,theroomofFrancescaandPaolo."

           "Yes,butyouhavenotthislittlestaircase,"saidMonteCristo,openingadoorconcealedbythedrapery."Lookatit,andtellmewhatyouthinkofit."

           "Whatawicked-looking,crookedstaircase,"saidChateau–Renaudwithasmile.

           "IdonotknowwhetherthewineofChiosproducesmelancholy,butcertainlyeverythingappearstomeblackinthishouse,"saidDebray.

           EversinceValentine’sdowryhadbeenmentioned,Morrelhadbeensilentandsad."Canyouimagine,"saidMonteCristo,"someOthelloorAbbedeGanges,onestormy,darknight,descendingthesestairsstepbystep,carryingaload,whichhewishestohidefromthesightofman,ifnotfromGod?"MadameDanglarshalffaintedonthearmofVillefort,whowasobligedtosupporthimselfagainstthewall."Ah,madame,"criedDebray,"whatisthematterwithyou?howpaleyoulook!"

           "Itisveryevidentwhatisthematterwithher,"saidMadamedeVillefort;"M.deMonteCristoisrelatinghorriblestoriestous,doubtlessintendingtofrightenustodeath.

Зміст книги
Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 1122 з 1932