TWENTY YEARS AFTER ALEXANDRE DUMAS CHAPTER 22 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 . | TWENTY YEARS AFTER ALEXANDRE DUMAS CHAPTER 22 22. Saint Denis. The day had begun to break when Athos arose and dressed himself. It was plain by a paleness still greater than usual and by those traces which loss of sleep leaves on the face that he must have passed almost the whole of the night without sleeping. Contrary to the custom of a man so firm and decided there was this morning in his personal appearance something tardy and irresolute. He was occupied with the preparations for Raoul s departure and was seeking to gain time. In the first place he himself furbished a sword which he drew from its perfumed leather sheath he examined it to see if its hilt was well guarded and if the blade was firmly attached to the hilt. Then he placed at the bottom of the valise belonging to the young man a small bag of louis called Olivain the lackey who had followed him from Blois and made him pack the valise under his own eyes watchful to see that everything should be put in which might be useful to a young man entering on his first campaign. At length after occupying about an hour in these preparations he opened the door of the room in which the vicomte slept and entered. The sun already high penetrated into the room through the window the curtains of which Raoul had neglected to close on the previous evening. He was still sleeping his head gracefully reposing on his arm. Athos approached and hung over the youth in an attitude full of tender melancholy he looked long on this young man whose smiling mouth and half closed eyes bespoke soft dreams and lightest slumber as if his guardian angel watched over him with solicitude and affection. By degrees Athos gave himself up to the charms of his reverie in the proximity of youth so pure so fresh. His own youth seemed to reappear bringing with it all those savoury remembrances which are like perfumes more than thoughts. Between the past and the present was an ineffable abyss. But imagination has the wings of an angel of light and .

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