Граф Монте-Крісто

The Story.

           Icannotnowrepeattoyou,sir,alltheeloquentwordsandimploringlanguagehemadeuseof;itwasmorethanpiety,itwasmorethangrief,andI,whoamnocanter,andhatetheJesuits,saidthentomyself,‘Itisreallywell,andIamverygladthatIhavenotanychildren;forifIwereafatherandfeltsuchexcessivegriefastheoldmandoes,anddidnotfindinmymemoryorheartallheisnowsaying,Ishouldthrowmyselfintotheseaatonce,forIcouldnotbearit.’"

           "Poorfather!"murmuredthepriest.

           "Fromdaytodayhelivedonalone,andmoreandmoresolitary.M.MorrelandMercedescametoseehim,buthisdoorwasclosed;and,althoughIwascertainhewasathome,hewouldnotmakeanyanswer.Oneday,when,contrarytohiscustom,hehadadmittedMercedes,andthepoorgirl,inspiteofherowngriefanddespair,endeavoredtoconsolehim,hesaidtoher‘Beassured,mydeardaughter,heisdead;andinsteadofexpectinghim,itishewhoisawaitingus;Iamquitehappy,forIamtheoldest,andofcourseshallseehimfirst.’Howeverwelldisposedapersonmaybe,whyyouseeweleaveoffafteratimeseeingpersonswhoareinsorrow,theymakeonemelancholy;andsoatlastoldDanteswasleftalltohimself,andIonlysawfromtimetotimestrangersgouptohimandcomedownagainwithsomebundletheytriedtohide;butIguessedwhatthesebundleswere,andthathesoldbydegreeswhathehadtopayforhissubsistence.

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Сторінка 392 з 1932