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The Pavilion

           Perhapsthecoldbegantoaffecthim,andhetookaperfectlyphysicalsensationforamoralimpression.

           Thentheideaseizedhimthathehadreadincorrectly,andthattheappointmentwasforeleveno’clock.Hedrewneartothewindow,andplacinghimselfsothatarayoflightshouldfallupontheletterasheheldit,hedrewitfromhispocketandreaditagain;buthehadnotbeenmistaken,theappointmentwasforteno’clock.Hewentandresumedhispost,beginningtoberatheruneasyatthissilenceandthissolitude.

           Eleveno’clocksounded.

           D’ArtagnanbegannowreallytofearthatsomethinghadhappenedtoMme.Bonacieux.Heclappedhishandsthreetimestheordinarysignaloflovers;butnobodyrepliedtohim,notevenanecho.

           Hethenthought,withatouchofvexation,thatperhapstheyoungwomanhadfallenasleepwhilewaitingforhim.Heapproachedthewall,andtriedtoclimbit;butthewallhadbeenrecentlypointed,andd’Artagnancouldgetnohold.

           Atthatmomenthethoughtofthetrees,uponwhoseleavesthelightstillshone;andasoneofthemdroopedovertheroad,hethoughtthatfromitsbrancheshemightgetaglimpseoftheinteriorofthepavilion.

           Thetreewaseasytoclimb.Besides,d’Artagnanwasbuttwentyyearsold,andconsequentlyhadnotyetforgottenhisschoolboyhabits.Inaninstanthewasamongthebranches,andhiskeeneyesplungedthroughthetransparentpanesintotheinteriorofthepavilion.

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Roboto Lora
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