Camille ALEXANDRE DUMAS FILS CHAPTER 7 Đây là một tác phẩm anh ngữ nổi tiếng với những từ vựng nâng cao chuyên ngành văn chương. Nhằm giúp các bạn yêu thich tiếng anh luyện tập và củng cố thêm kỹ năng đọc tiếng anh . | Camille ALEXANDRE DUMAS FILS CHAPTER 7 Illnesses like Armand s have one fortunate thing about them they either kill outright or are very soon overcome. A fortnight after the events which I have just related Armand was convalescent and we had already become great friends. During the whole course of his illness I had hardly left his side. Spring was profuse in its flowers its leaves its birds its songs and my friend s window opened gaily upon his garden from which a reviving breath of health seemed to come to him. The doctor had allowed him to get up and we often sat talking at the open window at the hour when the sun is at its height from twelve to two. I was careful not to refer to Marguerite fearing lest the name should awaken sad recollections hidden under the apparent calm of the invalid but Armand on the contrary seemed to delight in speaking of her not as formerly with tears in his eyes but with a sweet smile which reassured me as to the state of his mind. I had noticed that ever since his last visit to the cemetery and the sight which had brought on so violent a crisis sorrow seemed to have been overcome by sickness and Marguerite s death no longer appeared to him under its former aspect. A kind of consolation had sprung from the certainty of which he was now fully persuaded and in order to banish the sombre picture which often presented itself to him he returned upon the happy recollections of his liaison with Marguerite and seemed resolved to think of nothing else. The body was too much weakened by the attack of fever and even by the process of its cure to permit him any violent emotions and the universal joy of spring which wrapped him round carried his thoughts instinctively to images of joy. He had always obstinately refused to tell his family of the danger which he had been in and when he was well again his father did not even know that he had been ill. One evening we had sat at the window later than usual the weather had been superb and the sun sank to
