Граф Монте-Кристо

The Evening of the Betrothal.

           

           "Youwishtospeaktomealone?"saidthemarquis.

           "Yes,letusgotothelibrary,please."Themarquistookhisarm,andtheyleftthesalon.

           "Well,"askedhe,assoonastheywerebythemselves,"tellmewhatitis?"

           "Anaffairofthegreatestimportance,thatdemandsmyimmediatepresenceinParis.Now,excusetheindiscretion,marquis,buthaveyouanylandedproperty?"

           "Allmyfortuneisinthefunds;sevenoreighthundredthousandfrancs."

           "Thenselloutsellout,marquis,oryouwillloseitall."

           "ButhowcanIsellouthere?"

           "Youhaveabroker,haveyounot?"

           "Yes."

           "Thengivemealettertohim,andtellhimtoselloutwithoutaninstant’sdelay,perhapsevennowIshallarrivetoolate."

           "Thedeuceyousay!"repliedthemarquis,"letuslosenotime,then!"

           And,sittingdown,hewrotealettertohisbroker,orderinghimtoselloutatthemarketprice.

           "Now,then,"saidVillefort,placingtheletterinhispocketbook,"Imusthaveanother!"

           "Towhom?"

           "Totheking."

           "Totheking?"

           "Yes."

           "Idarenotwritetohismajesty."

           "Idonotaskyoutowritetohismajesty,butaskM.deSalvieuxtodoso.

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