Граф Монте-Крісто

A Summer Ball.

           "

           "IfItellyouonething,youwillbesoamiableastosetasideallimpediments."

           "Tellmewhatitis."

           "Mymotherbegsyoutocome."

           "TheComtessedeMorcerf?"saidMonteCristo,starting.

           "Ah,count,"saidAlbert,"IassureyouMadamedeMorcerfspeaksfreelytome,andifyouhavenotfeltthosesympatheticfibresofwhichIspokejustnowthrillwithinyou,youmustbeentirelydevoidofthem,forduringthelastfourdayswehavespokenofnooneelse."

           "Youhavetalkedofme?"

           "Yes,thatisthepenaltyofbeingalivingpuzzle!"

           "ThenIamalsoapuzzletoyourmother?Ishouldhavethoughthertooreasonabletobeledbyimagination."

           "Aproblem,mydearcount,foreveryoneformymotheraswellasothers;muchstudied,butnotsolved,youstillremainanenigma,donotfear.Mymotherisonlyastonishedthatyouremainsolongunsolved.Ibelieve,whiletheCountessG——takesyouforLordRuthven,mymotherimaginesyoutobeCagliostroortheCountSaint–Germain.Thefirstopportunityyouhave,confirmherinheropinion;itwillbeeasyforyou,asyouhavethephilosophyoftheoneandthewitoftheother."

           "Ithankyouforthewarning,"saidthecount;"Ishallendeavortobepreparedforallsuppositions."

           "Youwill,then,comeonSaturday?"

           "Yes,sinceMadamedeMorcerfinvitesme."

           "Youareverykind.

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