..” Sandi started, then never finished as I took a deep sniffing breath to clear my airways.We sat in silence for the remaining trip to the airport, but as we pulled into the passenger drop-off area, Sandi said, “It just doesn’t sound like the Jennifer I knew.”Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same.We hitched a ride on my dad’s private jet on its way to New York City. It dropped us off in Saint Louis where we were taking a commercial flight to Dallas. Saint Louis was a little out of our way and in the wrong direction, but it was the best I could arrange, and it beat driving to the nearest international airport.As we entered the terminal in Saint Louis and looked up which gate our flight would be at, I became aware of another voice scanning the crowd in some of the food bars and shops. I didn’t bother to tell Sandi about it, but we kept our distance since I really didn’t want a confrontation in such a public and busy place.By the time we reached our gate, the scans had stopped and I. Maximilian stared for a moment at the corpse, gazed all around the room, then upon the two men; he opened his mouth to speak, but finding it impossible to give utterance to the innumerable ideas that occupied his brain, he went out, thrusting his hands through his hair in such a manner that Villefort and d'Avrigny, for a moment diverted from the engrossing topic, exchanged glances, which seemed to say, --"He is mad!"But in less than five minutes the staircase groaned beneath an extraordinary weight. Morrel was seen carrying, with superhuman strength, the arm-chair containing Noirtier up-stairs. When he reached the landing he placed the arm-chair on the floor and rapidly rolled it into Valentine's room. This could only have been accomplished by means of unnatural strength supplied by powerful excitement. But the most fearful spectacle was Noirtier being pushed towards the bed, his face expressing all his meaning, and his eyes supplying the want of every other faculty. That pale face.
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