of mind you have, or rather that which you would not have, if instead
of my daughter Valentine your daughter Madeleine were concerned." The
doctor turned pale. "Doctor, every son of woman is born to suffer and to
die; I am content to suffer and to await death."
"Beware," said M. d'Avrigny, "it may come slowly; you will see it
approach after having struck your father, your wife, perhaps your son."
Villefort, suffocating, pressed the doctor's arm. "Listen," cried he;
"pity me--help me! No, my daughter is not guilty. If you drag us
both before a tribunal I will still say, 'No, my daughter is not
guilty;--there is no crime in my house. I will not acknowledge a crime
in my house; for when crime enters a dwelling, it is like death--it does
not come alone.' Listen. What does it signify to you if I am murdered?
Are you my friend? Are you a man? Have you a heart? No, you are a
physician! Well, I tell you I will not drag my daughter before a
tribunal, and give her up to the executioner! The bare idea would
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