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The Carmelite Convent at Bethune

           Thepooryoungwomancouldnotpossiblysuspectwhatfrightfulcrueltywasbehindtherampartofthatpurebrow,behindthosebrillianteyesinwhichshereadnothingbutinterestandcompassion.

           "ThenyouknowwhatIhavesuffered,"saidMme.Bonacieux,"sincehehastoldyouwhathehassuffered;buttosufferforhimishappiness."

           Miladyrepliedmechanically,"Yes,thatishappiness."Shewasthinkingofsomethingelse.

           "Andthen,"continuedMme.Bonacieux,"mypunishmentisdrawingtoaclose.Tomorrow,thisevening,perhaps,Ishallseehimagain;andthenthepastwillnolongerexist."

           "Thisevening?"askedMilady,rousedfromherreveriebythesewords."Whatdoyoumean?Doyouexpectnewsfromhim?"

           "Iexpecthimself."

           "Himself?D’Artagnanhere?"

           "Himself!"

           "Butthat’simpossible!HeisatthesiegeofLaRochellewiththecardinal.Hewillnotreturntillafterthetakingofthecity."

           "Ah,youfancyso!Butisthereanythingimpossibleformyd’Artagnan,thenobleandloyalgentleman?"

           "Oh,Icannotbelieveyou!"

           "Well,read,then!"saidtheunhappyyoungwoman,intheexcessofherprideandjoy,presentingalettertoMilady.

           "ThewritingofMadamedeChevreuse!"saidMiladytoherself."Ah,Ialwaysthoughttherewassomesecretunderstandinginthatquarter!"Andshegreedilyreadthefollowingfewlines:

           MyDearChild,Holdyourselfready.

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