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2020-08-06 07:22:17  Դձ
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appַ:a g 9 559 v i p<"I think so," answered Albert in a firm tone. "We willaccept them the more readily, since we have them not here;you know they are buried in the garden of the little housein the Allees de Meillan, at Marseilles. With 200 francs wecan reach Marseilles.""Very possibly; only I am not come to discuss politics, butto inquire if you have anything to ask or to complain of."

"I see; to your domestics you are `my lord,' the journalistsstyle you `monsieur,' while your constituents call you`citizen.' These are distinctions very suitable under aconstitutional government. I understand perfectly." AgainDanglars bit his lips; he saw that he was no match for MonteCristo in an argument of this sort, and he thereforehastened to turn to subjects more congenial.

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"Who will tell her?"

"Ah!" said the abbe, in a peculiar tone, "he is happy."

"Now go," returned Franz, "or I shall go myself and bargainwith your affettatore, who is mine also; he is an old friendof mine, who has plundered me pretty well already, and, inthe hope of making more out of me, he will take a less pricethan the one I offer you; you will lose the preference, andthat will be your fault."

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"But, tell me," said Andrea, "am I to remain bareheaded?"<"No, my life has been passed in frivolity; I wish to forgetit myself."

"I cannot be mistaken; there are your horses! The veryanimals we were speaking of, harnessed to the count'scarriage!"

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"Yes; must I not be prepared for everything, dear friend?But what did you do yesterday after you left me?"

"Ah, here is my mother," cried the viscount. Monte Cristo,turned round hastily, and saw Madame de Morcerf at theentrance of the salon, at the door opposite to that by whichher husband had entered, pale and motionless; when MonteCristo turned round, she let fall her arm, which for someunknown reason had been resting on the gilded door-post. Shehad been there some moments, and had heard the last words ofthe visitor. The latter rose and bowed to the countess, whoinclined herself without speaking. "Ah, good heavens,madame," said the count, "are you ill, or is it the heat ofthe room that affects you?"

<"Do not mistake. I suffer less because there is in me lessstrength to endure. At your age we have faith in life; it isthe privilege of youth to believe and hope, but old men seedeath more clearly. Oh, 'tis here -- 'tis here -- 'tis over-- my sight is gone -- my senses fail! Your hand, Dantes!Adieu -- adieu!" And raising himself by a final effort, inwhich he summoned all his faculties, he said, -- "MonteCristo, forget not Monte Cristo!" And he fell back on thebed. The crisis was terrible, and a rigid form with twistedlimbs, swollen eyelids, and lips flecked with bloody foam,lay on the bed of torture, in place of the intellectualbeing who so lately rested there."Yes, and a sincere friend; I love him devotedly. But now weare alone, -- although it is immaterial to me, -- where arewe going?"

Albert looked at her with curiosity, for she had not yetrelated what he most desired to know, -- how she had becomethe slave of the count. Haidee saw at a glance the sameexpression pervading the countenances of her two auditors;she exclaimed, `When my mother recovered her senses we werebefore the serasker. `Kill,' said she, `but spare the honorof the widow of Ali.' -- `It is not to me to whom you mustaddress yourself,' said Koorshid.

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Debray was admitted to the house for this grand ceremony,but on the same plane with every one else, and without anyparticular privilege. M. Danglars, surrounded by deputiesand men connected with the revenue, was explaining a newtheory of taxation which he intended to adopt when thecourse of events had compelled the government to call himinto the ministry. Andrea, on whose arm hung one of the mostconsummate dandies of the opera, was explaining to himrather cleverly, since he was obliged to be bold to appearat ease, his future projects, and the new luxuries he meantto introduce to Parisian fashions with his hundred andseventy-five thousand livres per annum.

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appѦõݰྯԱ沿 ӱﲻñ "It was." ϸ

йȽǰСйƶȵĿѧ| ̵2018|ʼϼɽߣؽĻ԰

app·Զƾְ "Yes, most satisfactory, my dear Danglars." ϸ

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