The Count of Monte Cristo

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conversing cheerfully with Morrel, but he was well prepared for what
might happen. The door opened, and Monte Cristo, turning round, saw
Albert, pale and trembling, followed by Beauchamp and Chateau-Renaud.

"Well," cried he, with that benevolent politeness which distinguished
his salutation from the common civilities of the world, "my cavalier has
attained his object. Good-evening, M. de Morcerf." The countenance of
this man, who possessed such extraordinary control over his feelings,
expressed the most perfect cordiality. Morrel only then recollected the
letter he had received from the viscount, in which, without assigning
any reason, he begged him to go to the opera, but he understood that
something terrible was brooding.

"We are not come here, sir, to exchange hypocritical expressions of
politeness, or false professions of friendship," said Albert, "but to
demand an explanation." The young man's trembling voice was scarcely
audible. "An explanation at the opera?" said the count, with that calm