bled!”
“Has he eaten anything lately?” asked Madame de Villefort, eluding her husband’s question.
“Madame,” replied Valentine, “he has not even breakfasted. He has been running very fast on an errand with which my grandfather charged him, and when he returned, took nothing but a glass of lemonade.”
“Ah,” said Madame de Villefort, “why did he not take wine? Lemonade was a very bad thing for him.”
“Grandpapa’s bottle of lemonade was standing just by his side; poor Barrois was very thirsty, and was thankful to drink anything he could find.”
Madame de Villefort started. Noirtier looked at her with a glance of the most profound scrutiny.
“He has such a