“Enough,” said Mercédès; “enough, Edmond! Believe me, that she who alone recognized you has been the only one to comprehend you; and had she crossed your path, and you had crushed her like glass, still, Edmond, still she must have admired you! Like the gulf between me and the past, there is an abyss between you, Edmond, and the rest of mankind; and I tell you freely that the comparison I draw between you and other men will ever be one of my greatest tortures. No, there is nothing in the world to resemble you in worth and goodness! But we must say farewell, Edmond, and let us part.”

“Before I leave you, Mercédès, have you no request to make?” said the count.

“I desire but one thing in this world, Edmond⁠—the happiness of my son.”

“Pray to the Almighty to spare his life, and I will take upon myself to promote his happiness.”

“Thank you, Edmond.”