Explore "The Count's Millions" by Emile Gaboriau on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When Mademoiselle Marguerite left the dead count's bedside at ten o'clock at night to repair to Pascal Ferailleur's house, she did not yet despair of the future. Father, friend, rank, security, fortune -- she had lost all these in a single moment -- but she could still see a promise of happiness in the distance.
She suffered undoubtedly, and yet she experienced a sort of bitter pleasure at the thought of uniting her life to the man who was as unfortunate as herself, who was slandered as she herself had been slandered, branded with the most cruel and unjust imputations, and had neither fortune nor friends. Others might scorn them; but what did they care for the world's disdain so long as they had the approval of their consciences? Would not their mutual esteem suffice since they loved each other? It seemed to Marguerite that their very misfortunes would bind them more closely to each other, and cement the bonds of their love more strongly. And if it were absolutely necessary for them to leave France -- ah, well! they would leave it. To them Fatherland would always be the spot where they lived together.