If you are young, I will be your comrade; if you are old, I will be your son.

I have a father who is seventy if he yet lives; I only love him and a young girl called Mercedes.

My father has not yet forgotten me, I am sure, but God alone knows if she loves me still; I shall love you as I loved my father." "It is well," returned the voice; "to-morrow." These few words were uttered with an accent that left no doubt of his sincerity; Dantes rose, dispersed the fragments with the same precaution as before, and pushed his bed back against the wall.

He then gave himself up to his happiness.

He would no longer be alone.