The Count of Monte Cristo

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were they in his eyes than the richest pearls of Guzerat and Ophir.

"Oh," said she, seizing the count's hand and raising it to her lips;
"oh, thank you, thank you, Edmond! Now you are exactly what I dreamt you
were,--the man I always loved. Oh, now I may say so!"

"So much the better," replied Monte Cristo; "as that poor Edmond will
not have long to be loved by you. Death is about to return to the tomb,
the phantom to retire in darkness."

"What do you say, Edmond?"

"I say, since you command me, Mercedes, I must die."

"Die? and why so? Who talks of dying? Whence have you these ideas of
death?"