““Listen; for ten years I dreamed each night the same dream. I have been told that you had endeavored to escape. … Well, Edmond, I swear to you, by the head of that son for whom I entreat your pity—Edmond, for ten years I saw every night every detail of that frightful tragedy, and for ten years I heard every night the cry which awoke me, shuddering and cold. And I, too, Edmond—oh believe me—guilty as I was—oh, yes, I too have suffered much.”“Have you known what it is to have your father starve to death in your absence?” cried Monte Cristo, thrusting his hands into his hair. “Have you seen the woman you loved giving her hand to your rival, while you were perishing at the bottom of a dungeon?”“No,” interrupted Mercedes, “I have known worst. For I have seen him whom I loved on the point of murdering my son.””
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