The Count of Monte Cristo

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"You are not making any mistake, are you?" said the notary; "you really
mean to declare that such is not your intention?"

"No," repeated Noirtier; "No." Valentine raised her head, struck dumb
with astonishment. It was not so much the conviction that she was
disinherited that caused her grief, but her total inability to account
for the feelings which had provoked her grandfather to such an act. But
Noirtier looked at her with so much affectionate tenderness that she
exclaimed, "Oh, grandpapa, I see now that it is only your fortune of
which you deprive me; you still leave me the love which I have always
enjoyed."

"Ah, yes, most assuredly," said the eyes of the paralytic, for he closed
them with an expression which Valentine could not mistake. "Thank you,
thank you," murmured she. The old man's declaration that Valentine
was not the destined inheritor of his fortune had excited the hopes of
Madame de Villefort; she gradually approached the invalid, and said: