Граф Монте-Крісто

The Lemonade.

           

           Villefortseemedstupefiedwithastonishment,andremainedgazingintentlyonthescenebeforehimwithoututteringaword.HehadnotseenMorrel.Afteramomentofdumbcontemplation,duringwhichhisfacebecamepaleandhishairseemedtostandonend,hesprangtowardsthedoor,cryingout,"Doctor,doctor!comeinstantly,praycome!"

           "Madame,madame!"criedValentine,callingherstep-mother,andrunningup-stairstomeether;"comequick,quick!andbringyourbottleofsmelling-saltswithyou."

           "Whatisthematter?"saidMadamedeVillefortinaharshandconstrainedtone.

           "Oh,come,come!"

           "Butwhereisthedoctor?"exclaimedVillefort;"whereishe?"MadamedeVillefortnowdeliberatelydescendedthestaircase.Inonehandsheheldherhandkerchief,withwhichsheappearedtobewipingherface,andintheotherabottleofEnglishsmelling-salts.HerfirstlookonenteringtheroomwasatNoirtier,whoseface,independentoftheemotionwhichsuchascenecouldnotfailofproducing,proclaimedhimtobeinpossessionofhisusualhealth;hersecondglancewasatthedyingman.Sheturnedpale,andhereyepassedquicklyfromtheservantandrestedonthemaster.

           "Inthenameofheaven,madame,"saidVillefort,"whereisthedoctor?Hewaswithyoujustnow.

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