At last d’Avrigny slowly uttered these words: “She is still alive!”
“Still?” cried Villefort; “oh, doctor, what a dreadful word is that.”
“Yes,” said the physician, “I repeat it; she is still alive, and I am astonished at it.”
“But is she safe?” asked the father.
“Yes, since she lives.”
At that moment d’Avrigny’s glance met Noirtier’s eye. It glistened with such extraordinary joy, so rich and full of thought, that the physician was struck. He placed the young girl again on the chair,—her lips were scarcely discernible, they were so pale and white, as well as her whole face,—and remained motionless, looking at Noirtier, who appeared to anticipate and commend all he did.
“Sir,” said d’Avrigny to Villefort, “call Mademoiselle Valentine’s maid, if you please.”
Villefort went himself to find her; and d’Avrigny approached Noirtier.
“Have you something to tell me?” asked he. The old man winked his eyes expressively, which we may remember was his only way of expressing his approval.
“Privately?”