Граф Монте-Крісто

Madame de Saint–Meran.

           Itseemedasthoughmysoulwerealreadyhoveringovermybody,myeyes,whichItriedtoopen,closedagainstmywill,andwhatwillappearimpossibleabovealltoyou,sir,Isaw,withmyeyesshut,inthespotwhereyouarenowstanding,issuingfromthatcornerwherethereisadoorleadingintoMadameVillefort’sdressing-roomIsaw,Itellyou,silentlyenter,awhitefigure."Valentinescreamed."Itwasthefeverthatdisturbedyou,madame,"saidVillefort.

           "Doubt,ifyouplease,butIamsureofwhatIsay.Isawawhitefigure,andasiftopreventmydiscreditingthetestimonyofonlyoneofmysenses,Iheardmyglassremovedthesamewhichistherenowonthetable."

           "Oh,dearmother,itwasadream."

           "Solittlewasitadream,thatIstretchedmyhandtowardsthebell;butwhenIdidso,theshadedisappeared;mymaidthenenteredwithalight."

           "Butshesawnoone?"

           "Phantomsarevisibletothoseonlywhooughttoseethem.Itwasthesoulofmyhusband!Well,ifmyhusband’ssoulcancometome,whyshouldnotmysoulreappeartoguardmygranddaughter?thetieisevenmoredirect,itseemstome."

           "Oh,madame,"saidVillefort,deeplyaffected,inspiteofhimself,"donotyieldtothosegloomythoughts;youwilllonglivewithus,happy,loved,andhonored,andwewillmakeyouforget"—

           "Never,never,never,"saidthemarchioness."WhendoesM.

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Сторінка 1243 з 1932