Граф Монте-Крісто

The Deputy Procureur du Roi.

           

           "Ah,"saidtheMarquisedeSaint–Meran,awomanwithastern,forbiddingeye,thoughstillnobleanddistinguishedinappearance,despiteherfiftyyears—"ah,theserevolutionists,whohavedrivenusfromthoseverypossessionstheyafterwardspurchasedforameretrifleduringtheReignofTerror,wouldbecompelledtoown,weretheyhere,thatalltruedevotionwasonourside,sincewewerecontenttofollowthefortunesofafallingmonarch,whilethey,onthecontrary,madetheirfortunebyworshippingtherisingsun;yes,yes,theycouldnothelpadmittingthattheking,forwhomwesacrificedrank,wealth,andstationwastrulyour‘Louisthewell-beloved,’whiletheirwretchedusurperhisbeen,andeverwillbe,tothemtheirevilgenius,their‘Napoleontheaccursed.’AmInotright,Villefort?"

           "Ibegyourpardon,madame.Ireallymustprayyoutoexcuseme,butintruthIwasnotattendingtotheconversation."

           "Marquise,marquise!"interposedtheoldnoblemanwhohadproposedthetoast,"lettheyoungpeoplealone;letmetellyou,onone’sweddingdaytherearemoreagreeablesubjectsofconversationthandrypolitics."

           "Nevermind,dearestmother,"saidayoungandlovelygirl,withaprofusionoflightbrownhair,andeyesthatseemedtofloatinliquidcrystal,"’tisallmyfaultforseizinguponM.deVillefort,soastopreventhislisteningtowhatyousaid.Buttherenowtakehimheisyourownforaslongasyoulike.M.

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