“I only mean that the count seems the rage,” replied the viscount, smiling, “and that you are the seventeenth person that has asked me the same question. The count is in fashion; I congratulate him upon it.”
“And have you replied to everyone as you have to me?”
“Ah, to be sure, I have not answered you; be satisfied, we shall have this ‘lion’; we are among the privileged ones.”
“Were you at the Opera yesterday?”
“No.”
“He was there.”
“Ah, indeed? And did the eccentric person commit any new originality?”
“Can he be seen without doing so? Elssler was dancing in Le Diable boiteux; the Greek princess was in ecstasies. After the cachucha he placed a magnificent ring on the stem of a bouquet, and threw it to the charming danseuse, who, in the third act, to do honor to the gift, reappeared with it on her finger. And the Greek princess,—will she be here?”
“No, you will be deprived of that pleasure; her position in the count’s establishment is not sufficiently understood.”
“Wait; leave me here, and go and speak to Madame de Villefort, who is trying to attract your attention.”
Albert bowed to Madame Danglars, and advanced towards Madame de Villefort, whose lips opened as he approached.
“I wager anything,” said Albert, interrupting her, “that I know what you were about to say.”
“Well, what is it?”
“If I guess rightly, will you confess it?”
“Yes.”
“On your honor?”
“On my honor.”
“You were going to ask me if the Count of Monte Cristo had arrived, or was expected.”