Граф Монте-Кристо

The Room of the Retired Baker.

           "

           "Verywell,atteno’clock;youarestillattheHoteldesPrinces?"

           "Yes."

           Thefollowingmorning,withthebanker’susualpunctuality,theeightythousandfrancswereplacedintheyoungman’shandsashewasonthepointofstarting,afterhavinglefttwohundredfrancsforCaderousse.Hewentoutchieflytoavoidthisdangerousenemy,andreturnedaslateaspossibleintheevening.Butscarcelyhadhesteppedoutofhiscarriagewhentheportermethimwithaparcelinhishand."Sir,"saidhe,"thatmanhasbeenhere."

           "Whatman?"saidAndreacarelessly,apparentlyforgettinghimwhomhebuttoowellrecollected.

           "Himtowhomyourexcellencypaysthatlittleannuity."

           "Oh,"saidAndrea,"myfather’soldservant.Well,yougavehimthetwohundredfrancsIhadleftforhim?"

           "Yes,yourexcellency."Andreahadexpressedawishtobethusaddressed."But,"continuedtheporter,"hewouldnottakethem."Andreaturnedpale,butasitwasdarkhispallorwasnotperceptible."What?hewouldnottakethem?"saidhewithslightemotion.

           "No,hewishedtospeaktoyourexcellency;Itoldhimyouweregoneout,andaftersomedisputehebelievedmeandgavemethisletter,whichhehadbroughtwithhimalreadysealed."

           "Giveitme,"saidAndrea,andhereadbythelightofhiscarriage-lamp"YouknowwhereIlive;Iexpectyoutomorrowmorningatnineo’clock.

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Roboto Lora
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Страница 1426 из 1932