de Villefort, evidently agitated. “Valentine, will you not go and see if your grandpapa will have his dinner?”
Valentine rose, and saluting the count, left the apartment without speaking.
“Oh, madame,” said the count, when Valentine had left the room, “was it on my account that you sent Mademoiselle de Villefort away?”
“By no means,” replied the young lady quickly; “but this is the hour when we usually give M. Noirtier the unwelcome meal that sustains his pitiful existence. You are aware, sir, of the deplorable condition of my husband’s father?”
“Yes, madame, M. de Villefort spoke of it to me—a paralysis, I think.”
“Alas, yes; the poor old gentleman is entirely helpless; the mind alone is still active in this human machine, and that is faint and flickering, like the light of a lamp about to expire. But excuse me, sir,