The Count of Monte Cristo

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she disturbed that they might the more readily absorb the liquid; then
she carefully rinsed the glass, and wiping it with her handkerchief
replaced it on the table.

If any one could have looked into the room just then he would have
noticed the hesitation with which Madame de Villefort approached the bed
and looked fixedly on Valentine. The dim light, the profound silence,
and the gloomy thoughts inspired by the hour, and still more by her own
conscience, all combined to produce a sensation of fear; the poisoner
was terrified at the contemplation of her own work. At length she
rallied, drew aside the curtain, and leaning over the pillow gazed
intently on Valentine. The young girl no longer breathed, no breath
issued through the half-closed teeth; the white lips no longer
quivered--the eyes were suffused with a bluish vapor, and the long black
lashes rested on a cheek white as wax. Madame de Villefort gazed upon
the face so expressive even in its stillness; then she ventured to raise
the coverlet and press her hand upon the young girl's heart. It was