Граф Монте-Кристо

Andrea Cavalcanti.

           "

           "Mafoi,monsieur,youhavetoucheduponatenderchord."

           "Doyouhearwhathesays,major?"

           "CertainlyIdo."

           "Butdoyouunderstand?"

           "Ido."

           "Yoursonsaysherequiresmoney."

           "Well,whatwouldyouhavemedo?"saidthemajor.

           "Youshouldfurnishhimwithsomeofcourse,"repliedMonteCristo.

           "I?"

           "Yes,you,"saidthecount,atthesametimeadvancingtowardsAndrea,andslippingapacketofbank-notesintotheyoungman’shand.

           "Whatisthis?"

           "Itisfromyourfather."

           "Frommyfather?"

           "Yes;didyounottellhimjustnowthatyouwantedmoney?Well,then,hedeputesmetogiveyouthis."

           "AmItoconsiderthisaspartofmyincomeonaccount?"

           "No,itisforthefirstexpensesofyoursettlinginParis."

           "Ah,howgoodmydearfatheris!"

           "Silence,"saidMonteCristo;"hedoesnotwishyoutoknowthatitcomesfromhim."

           "Ifullyappreciatehisdelicacy,"saidAndrea,crammingthenoteshastilyintohispocket.

           "Andnow,gentlemen,Iwishyougood-morning,"saidMonteCristo.

           "Andwhenshallwehavethehonorofseeingyouagain,yourexcellency?"askedCavalcanti.

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