“Yes, of you.”
“And pray what may it be?”
“Well, to take his part.”
“Ah, my dear sir! What?—after the varied relations I have had the happiness to sustain towards you, can it be that you know me so little as to ask such a thing? Ask me to lend you half a million and, although such a loan is somewhat rare, on my honor, you would annoy me less! Know, then, what I thought I had already told you, that in participation in this world’s affairs, more especially in their moral aspects, the Count of Monte Cristo has never ceased to entertain the scruples and even the superstitions of the East. I, who have a seraglio at Cairo, one at Smyrna, and one at Constantinople, preside at a wedding?—never!”
“Then you refuse me?”
“Decidedly; and were you my son or my brother I would refuse you in the same way.”
“But what must be done?” said Andrea, disappointed.
“You said just now that you had a hundred friends.”
“Very true, but you introduced me at M. Danglars’.”
“Not at all! Let us recall the exact facts. You met him at a dinner party at my house, and you introduced yourself at his house; that is a totally different affair.”
“Yes, but, by my marriage, you have forwarded that.”
“I?—not in the least, I beg you to believe. Recollect what I told you when you asked me to propose you. ‘Oh, I never make matches, my dear prince, it is my settled principle.’ ” Andrea bit his lips.