The Count of Monte Cristo

Back Forward Menu

excuse for putting his handkerchief to his mouth. "Those born to wealth,
and who have the means of gratifying every wish," said Emmanuel, "know
not what is the real happiness of life, just as those who have been
tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone
realize the blessings of fair weather."

Monte Cristo rose, and without making any answer (for the tremulousness
of his voice would have betrayed his emotion) walked up and down the
apartment with a slow step.

"Our magnificence makes you smile, count," said Maximilian, who had
followed him with his eyes. "No, no," returned Monte Cristo, pale as
death, pressing one hand on his heart to still its throbbings, while
with the other he pointed to a crystal cover, beneath which a silken
purse lay on a black velvet cushion. "I was wondering what could be
the significance of this purse, with the paper at one end and the large
diamond at the other."