The Count of Monte Cristo

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deadly poison poured into your glass, and how I trembled lest you should
drink it before I could find time to throw it away!"

"Sir," said Valentine, at the height of her terror, "you say you endured
tortures when you saw the deadly poison poured into my glass; but if you
saw this, you must also have seen the person who poured it?"

"Yes." Valentine raised herself in bed, and drew over her chest, which
appeared whiter than snow, the embroidered cambric, still moist with the
cold dews of delirium, to which were now added those of terror. "You saw
the person?" repeated the young girl. "Yes," repeated the count.

"What you tell me is horrible, sir. You wish to make me believe
something too dreadful. What?--attempt to murder me in my father's
house, in my room, on my bed of sickness? Oh, leave me, sir; you
are tempting me--you make me doubt the goodness of providence--it is
impossible, it cannot be!"