Граф Монте-Крісто

Pyramus and Thisbe.

           Danglars,doyounot,Maximilian,thebanker,whosehorsesranawaywithmymother-inlawandlittlebrother,andverynearlykilledthem?WhiletherestofthecompanywerediscussingtheapproachingmarriageofMademoiselleDanglars,Iwasreadingthepapertomygrandfather;butwhenIcametotheparagraphaboutyou,althoughIhaddonenothingelsebutreaditovertomyselfallthemorning(youknowyouhadtoldmeallaboutitthepreviousevening),Ifeltsohappy,andyetsonervous,attheideaofspeakingyournamealoud,andbeforesomanypeople,thatIreallythinkIshouldhavepasseditover,butforthefearthatmydoingsomightcreatesuspicionsastothecauseofmysilence;soIsummonedupallmycourage,andreaditasfirmlyandassteadilyasIcould."

           "DearValentine!"

           "Well,wouldyoubelieveit?directlymyfathercaughtthesoundofyournameheturnedroundquitehastily,and,likeapoorsillything,Iwassopersuadedthateveryonemustbeasmuchaffectedasmyselfbytheutteranceofyourname,thatIwasnotsurprisedtoseemyfatherstart,andalmosttremble;butIeventhought(thoughthatsurelymusthavebeenamistake)thatM.Danglarstrembledtoo."

           "‘Morrel,Morrel,’criedmyfather,‘stopabit;’thenknittinghisbrowsintoadeepfrown,headded,‘surelythiscannotbeoneoftheMorrelfamilywholivedatMarseilles,andgaveussomuchtroublefromtheirviolentBonapartismImeanabouttheyear1815.’—‘Yes,’repliedM.

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Сторінка 916 з 1932