Граф Монте-Кристо

Monsieur Bertuccio.

           "

           "Haveyoubroughtit?"

           "Hereitis."

           "Verywell;andwhereisthishousethatIpurchase?"askedthecountcarelessly,addressinghimselfhalftoBertuccio,halftothenotary.Thestewardmadeagesturethatsignified,"Idonotknow."Thenotarylookedatthecountwithastonishment."What!"saidhe,"doesnotthecountknowwherethehousehepurchasesissituated?"

           "No,"returnedthecount.

           "Thecountdoesnotknow?"

           "HowshouldIknow?IhavearrivedfromCadizthismorning.IhaveneverbeforebeenatParis,anditisthefirsttimeIhaveeverevensetmyfootinFrance."

           "Ah,thatisdifferent;thehouseyoupurchaseisatAuteuil."AtthesewordsBertuccioturnedpale."AndwhereisAuteuil?"askedthecount.

           "Closebyhere,monsieur,"repliedthenotary—"alittlebeyondPassy;acharmingsituation,intheheartoftheBoisdeBoulogne."

           "Sonearasthat?"saidtheCount;"butthatisnotinthecountry.WhatmadeyouchooseahouseatthegatesofParis,M.Bertuccio?"

           "I,"criedthestewardwithastrangeexpression."Hisexcellencydidnotchargemetopurchasethishouse.Ifhisexcellencywillrecollectifhewillthink"—

           "Ah,true,"observedMonteCristo;"Irecollectnow.Ireadtheadvertisementinoneofthepapers,andwastemptedbythefalsetitle,‘acountryhouse.

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