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Updated: June 1, 2025
This strange event aroused great wonder and curiosity in the neighborhood of the Allees de Meillan, and a multitude of theories were afloat, none of which was anywhere near the truth.
This money was for her; I destined it for her, and, knowing the treachery of the sea I buried our treasure in the little garden of the house my father lived in at Marseilles, on the Allees de Meillan. Your mother, Albert, knows that poor house well.
"Because others need me. Come, Haydee, Mercedes is waiting." Ten years had passed since Mercedes had bade her only son good-by. She lived in the small house in the Allee de Meillan at Marseilles, which formerly belonged to old Dantes, and though her face was pale and her eyes no longer sparkled as of yore, the widow of General de Morcerf was still a wonderfully handsome woman.
"My friend, you can not complain of that. I did not even go to Madame Meillan's yesterday." "You are right to show yourself there as little as possible. It is not a house for you." He explained. All the women that went there had had some spicy adventure which was known and talked about. Besides, Madame Meillan favored intrigue. He gave examples.
"'Coucou, he commenced, quietly, 'one never knows how these skirmishes may end, and for the sake of life and death listen to me. Behold I have yet a mother she lives in Marseilles, in the Allee de Meillan, and is called Madame Joliette. In case something should befall me, demand a furlough, go to France and deliver this ring to my mother."
Monte Cristo remained on the same spot until Maximilian was out of sight; he then walked slowly towards the Allees de Meillan to seek out a small house with which our readers were made familiar at the beginning of this story.
For a while nothing was heard in the room but a succession of sobs, while the incense from their grateful hearts mounted to heaven. Julie had scarcely recovered from her deep emotion when she rushed out of the room, descended to the next floor, ran into the drawing-room with childlike joy and raised the crystal globe which covered the purse given by the unknown of the Allees de Meillan.
Morrel passed his hand over his brow; it seemed to him a dream. At this moment the clock struck eleven. He felt as if each stroke of the hammer fell upon his heart. "Explain, my child," he said, "Explain, my child," he said, "explain where did you find this purse?" "In a house in the Allees de Meillan, No. 15, on the corner of a mantelpiece in a small room on the fifth floor."
At Marseilles the National Guard lined the Allees de Meillan, each man with a bouquet stuck into the muzzle of his rifle, which he took out and threw into the barouche in which I sat with General Gazan, so that I was soon fairly buried, with nothing but my head sticking out, while the crowd shouted at the top of its voice: "Vive le Prinnche!
In the proscenium boxes were the wife of the Austrian Ambassador and the Duchess Gladwin; in the amphitheatre Berthe d'Osigny and Jane Tulle, the latter made famous the day before by the suicide of one of her lovers; in the boxes, Madame Berard de La Malle, her eyes lowered, her long eyelashes shading her pure cheeks; Princess Seniavine, who, looking superb, concealed under her fan panther like yawnings; Madame de Morlaine, between two young women whom she was training in the elegances of the mind; Madame Meillan, resting assured on thirty years of sovereign beauty; Madame Berthier d'Eyzelles, erect under iron-gray hair sparkling with diamonds.
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