Граф Монте-Кристо

The Promise.

           Iamherealmostmiraculously,andcanscarcelyhopeforsogoodanopportunitytooccuragain.Believeme,thereareonlythetwoplansIhaveproposedtoyou;forgivemyvanity,andtellmewhichyouprefer.DoyouauthorizeMademoiselleValentinetointrustherselftomyhonor?"

           "No."

           "DoyoupreferIshouldseekM.d’Epinay?"

           "No."

           "Whencethenwillcomethehelpweneedfromchance?"resumedMorrel.

           "No."

           "Fromyou?"

           "Yes."

           "Youthoroughlyunderstandme,sir?Pardonmyeagerness,formylifedependsonyouranswer.Willourhelpcomefromyou?"

           "Yes."

           "Youaresureofit?"

           "Yes."Therewassomuchfirmnessinthelookwhichgavethisanswer,noonecould,atanyrate,doubthiswill,iftheydidhispower."Oh,thankyouathousandtimes!Buthow,unlessamiracleshouldrestoreyourspeech,yourgesture,yourmovement,howcanyou,chainedtothatarm-chair,dumbandmotionless,opposethismarriage?"Asmilelituptheoldman’sface,astrangesmileoftheeyesinaparalyzedface."ThenImustwait?"askedtheyoungman.

           "Yes."

           "Butthecontract?"Thesamesmilereturned."Willyouassuremeitshallnotbesigned?"

           "Yes,"saidNoirtier.

           "Thecontractshallnotbesigned!"criedMorrel."Oh,pardonme,sir;Icanscarcelyrealizesogreatahappiness.

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