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LVIII. M. Noirtier de Villefort

Noirtier’s look.

“Ah, you frighten me. What can they have said?” and she again tried to think what it could be.

“Ah, I know,” said she, lowering her voice and going close to the old man. “They have been speaking of my marriage⁠—have they not?”

“Yes,” replied the angry look.

“I understand; you are displeased at the silence I have preserved on the subject. The reason of it was, that they had insisted on my keeping the matter a secret, and begged me not to tell you anything of it. They did not even acquaint me with their intentions, and I only discovered them by chance, that is why I have been so reserved with you, dear grandpapa. Pray forgive me.”

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