The Count of Monte Cristo

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"Impossible," said Madame de Villefort.

"Ah, my dear friend," said Madame Danglars, with the same simplicity
we before noticed, "it is a fact. I heard it from M. Debray, who was
present at the explanation." Valentine also knew the truth, but she did
not answer. A single word had reminded her that Morrel was expecting
her in M. Noirtier's room. Deeply engaged with a sort of inward
contemplation, Valentine had ceased for a moment to join in the
conversation. She would, indeed, have found it impossible to repeat what
had been said the last few minutes, when suddenly Madame Danglars' hand,
pressed on her arm, aroused her from her lethargy.

"What is it?" said she, starting at Madame Danglars' touch as she would
have done from an electric shock. "It is, my dear Valentine," said the
baroness, "that you are, doubtless, suffering."

"I?" said the young girl, passing her hand across her burning forehead.