-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Александр Дюма
-
- Граф Монте-Кристо
-
- Стр. 1174/1279
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
And
you
still
bid
me
hope
?
"
"
I
tell
you
to
hope
,
because
I
have
a
method
of
curing
you
.
"
"
Count
,
you
render
me
sadder
than
before
,
if
it
be
possible
.
You
think
the
result
of
this
blow
has
been
to
produce
an
ordinary
grief
,
and
you
would
cure
it
by
an
ordinary
remedy
--
change
of
scene
.
"
And
Morrel
dropped
his
head
with
disdainful
incredulity
.
"
What
can
I
say
more
?
"
asked
Monte
Cristo
.
"
I
have
confidence
in
the
remedy
I
propose
,
and
only
ask
you
to
permit
me
to
assure
you
of
its
efficacy
.
"
"
Count
,
you
prolong
my
agony
.
"
"
Then
,
"
said
the
count
,
"
your
feeble
spirit
will
not
even
grant
me
the
trial
I
request
?
Come
--
do
you
know
of
what
the
Count
of
Monte
Cristo
is
capable
?
do
you
know
that
he
holds
terrestrial
beings
under
his
control
?
nay
,
that
he
can
almost
work
a
miracle
?
Well
,
wait
for
the
miracle
I
hope
to
accomplish
,
or
"
--
"
Or
?
"
repeated
Morrel
.
"
Or
,
take
care
,
Morrel
,
lest
I
call
you
ungrateful
.
"
"
Have
pity
on
me
,
count
!
"
"
I
feel
so
much
pity
towards
you
,
Maximilian
,
that
--
listen
to
me
attentively
--
if
I
do
not
cure
you
in
a
month
,
to
the
day
,
to
the
very
hour
,
mark
my
words
,
Morrel
,
I
will
place
loaded
pistols
before
you
,
and
a
cup
of
the
deadliest
Italian
poison
--
a
poison
more
sure
and
prompt
than
that
which
has
killed
Valentine
.
"