Граф Монте-Крісто

The Pont du Gard Inn.

           Atthisunusualsound,ahugeblackdogcamerushingtomeetthedaringassailantofhisordinarilytranquilabode,snarlinganddisplayinghissharpwhiteteethwithadeterminedhostilitythatabundantlyprovedhowlittlehewasaccustomedtosociety.Atthatmomentaheavyfootstepwashearddescendingthewoodenstaircasethatledfromtheupperfloor,and,withmanybowsandcourteoussmiles,minehostofthePontduGardbesoughthisguesttoenter.

           "Youarewelcome,sir,mostwelcome!"repeatedtheastonishedCaderousse."Now,then,Margotin,"criedhe,speakingtothedog,"willyoubequiet?Praydon’theedhim,sir!heonlybarks,heneverbites.Imakenodoubtaglassofgoodwinewouldbeacceptablethisdreadfullyhotday."Thenperceivingforthefirsttimethegarbofthetravellerhehadtoentertain,Caderoussehastilyexclaimed:"Athousandpardons!IreallydidnotobservewhomIhadthehonortoreceiveundermypoorroof.Whatwouldtheabbepleasetohave?WhatrefreshmentcanIoffer?AllIhaveisathisservice."

           Thepriestgazedonthepersonaddressinghimwithalongandsearchinggazethereevenseemedadispositiononhisparttocourtasimilarscrutinyonthepartoftheinn-keeper;then,observinginthecountenanceofthelatternootherexpressionthanextremesurpriseathisownwantofattentiontoaninquirysocourteouslyworded,hedeemeditaswelltoterminatethisdumbshow,andthereforesaid,speakingwithastrongItalianaccent,"Youare,Ipresume,M.

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Roboto Lora
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Сторінка 372 з 1932