Граф Монте-Крісто

The Catacombs of Saint Sebastian.

           "

           "Iamnotspeaking,"saidthedukewithasmile,"ofthepersonswhoarehere;themenrunnootherdangerthanthatoffallinginlovewithyou,andthewomenoffallingillofjealousyatseeingyousolovely;ImeantpersonswhowereoutinthestreetsofRome."

           "Ah,"askedthecountess,"whoisoutinthestreetsofRomeatthishour,unlessitbetogotoaball?"

           "Ourfriend,AlbertdeMorcerf,countess,whomIleftinpursuitofhisunknownaboutseveno’clockthisevening,"saidFranz,"andwhomIhavenotseensince."

           "Anddon’tyouknowwhereheis?"

           "Notatall."

           "Ishearmed?"

           "Heisinmasquerade."

           "Youshouldnothaveallowedhimtogo,"saidtheduketoFranz;"you,whoknowRomebetterthanhedoes."

           "Youmightaswellhavetriedtostopnumberthreeofthebarberi,whogainedtheprizeintheracetoday,"repliedFranz;"andthenmoreover,whatcouldhappentohim?"

           "Whocantell?Thenightisgloomy,andtheTiberisveryneartheViaMacello."Franzfeltashudderrunthroughhisveinsatobservingthatthefeelingofthedukeandthecountesswassomuchinunisonwithhisownpersonaldisquietude."IinformedthematthehotelthatIhadthehonorofpassingthenighthere,duke,"saidFranz,"anddesiredthemtocomeandinformmeofhisreturn."

           "Ah,"repliedtheduke,"hereIthink,isoneofmyservantswhoisseekingyou.

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