The Count of Monte Cristo

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of depriving him of it; but the count replied that, as he was going to
the Palli Theatre, the box at the Argentina Theatre would be lost if
they did not profit by it. This assurance determined the two friends to
accept it.

Franz had by degrees become accustomed to the count's pallor, which had
so forcibly struck him at their first meeting. He could not refrain from
admiring the severe beauty of his features, the only defect, or rather
the principal quality of which was the pallor. Truly, a Byronic hero!
Franz could not, we will not say see him, but even think of him without
imagining his stern head upon Manfred's shoulders, or beneath Lara's
helmet. His forehead was marked with the line that indicates the
constant presence of bitter thoughts; he had the fiery eyes that seem
to penetrate to the very soul, and the haughty and disdainful upper lip
that gives to the words it utters a peculiar character that impresses
them on the minds of those to whom they are addressed. The count was no
longer young. He was at least forty; and yet it was easy to understand