“«Yes, count,» returned Julie, «we may indeed say he has, for he has done for us what he grants only to his chosen; he sent us one of his angels.»
The count's cheeks became scarlet, and he coughed, in order to have an excuse for putting his handkerchief to his mouth. «Those born to wealth, and who have the means of gratifying every wish,» said Emmanuel, «know not what is the real happiness of life, just as those who have been tossed on the stormy waters of the ocean on a few frail planks can alone realize the blessings of fair weather.»
Monte Cristo rose, and without making any answer (for the tremulousness of his voice would have betrayed his emotion) walked up and down the apartment with a slow step.
«Our magnificence makes you smile, count,» said Maximilian, who had followed him with his eyes.”