We use cookies
When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Your cookies settings
Strictly cookie settingsAlways Active
CHAPTER VI-2
“I cannot guess, Annette; tell me quickly.” “Nay, ma’am, do guess once.” “Well, then,” said Emily, with assumed composure, “it is—Count Morano, I suppose.” “Holy Virgin!” cried Annette, “are you ill, ma’amselle? you are going to faint! let me get some water.” Emily sunk into a chair. “Stay, Annette,” said she, feebly, “do not leave me—I shall soon be better; open the casement.—The Count, you say—he is come, then?” “Who, I!—the Count! No, ma’amselle, I did not say so.” “He is not come then?” said Emily eagerly. “No, ma’amselle.” “You are sure of it?” “Lord bless me!” said Annette, “you recover very suddenly, ma’am! why, I thought you were dying, just now.” “But the Count—you are sure, is not come?” “O yes, quite sure of that, ma’amselle. Why, I was looking out through the grate i
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD