Граф Монте-Крісто

The Rain of Blood.

           ‘There,there,’saidLaCarconte;‘doyouhearthat?uponmyword,youdidwelltocomeback.’‘Nevertheless,’repliedthejeweller,‘ifbythetimeIhavefinishedmysupperthetempesthasatallabated,Ishallmakeanotherstart.’‘It’sthemistral,’saidCaderousse,‘anditwillbesuretolasttilltomorrowmorning.’Hesighedheavily.‘Well,’saidthejeweller,asheplacedhimselfattable,‘allIcansayis,somuchtheworseforthosewhoareabroad.’‘Yes,’chimedinLaCarconte,‘theywillhaveawretchednightofit.’

           "Thejewellerbeganeatinghissupper,andthewoman,whowasordinarilysoquerulousandindifferenttoallwhoapproachedher,wassuddenlytransformedintothemostsmilingandattentivehostess.Hadtheunhappymanonwhomshelavishedherassiduitiesbeenpreviouslyacquaintedwithher,sosuddenanalterationmightwellhaveexcitedsuspicioninhismind,oratleasthavegreatlyastonishedhim.Caderousse,meanwhile,continuedtopacetheroomingloomysilence,sedulouslyavoidingthesightofhisguest;butassoonasthestrangerhadcompletedhisrepast,theagitatedinn-keeperwenteagerlytothedoorandopenedit.‘Ibelievethestormisover,’saidhe.Butasiftocontradicthisstatement,atthatinstantaviolentclapofthunderseemedtoshakethehousetoitsveryfoundation,whileasuddengustofwind,mingledwithrain,extinguishedthelampheheldinhishand.

Зміст книги
Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 797 з 1932