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- Александр Дюма
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- Граф Монте-Кристо
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- Стр. 928/1279
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"
A
pen
,
a
pen
!
"
said
the
doctor
.
There
was
one
lying
on
the
table
;
he
endeavored
to
introduce
it
into
the
mouth
of
the
patient
,
who
,
in
the
midst
of
his
convulsions
,
was
making
vain
attempts
to
vomit
;
but
the
jaws
were
so
clinched
that
the
pen
could
not
pass
them
.
This
second
attack
was
much
more
violent
than
the
first
,
and
he
had
slipped
from
the
couch
to
the
ground
,
where
he
was
writhing
in
agony
.
The
doctor
left
him
in
this
paroxysm
,
knowing
that
he
could
do
nothing
to
alleviate
it
,
and
,
going
up
to
Noirtier
,
said
abruptly
,
"
How
do
you
find
yourself
?
--
well
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Have
you
any
weight
on
the
chest
;
or
does
your
stomach
feel
light
and
comfortable
--
eh
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Then
you
feel
pretty
much
as
you
generally
do
after
you
have
had
the
dose
which
I
am
accustomed
to
give
you
every
Sunday
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Did
Barrois
make
your
lemonade
?
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Was
it
you
who
asked
him
to
drink
some
of
it
?
"
