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The Pavilion

           D’Artagnan,entirelyovercomebythisterriblestory,remainedmotionlessandmute,whileallthedemonsofangerandjealousywerehowlinginhisheart.

           "But,mygoodgentleman,"resumedtheoldman,uponwhomthismutedespaircertainlyproducedagreatereffectthancriesandtearswouldhavedone,"donottakeonso;theydidnotkillher,andthat’sacomfort."

           "Canyouguess,"saidd’Artagnan,"whowasthemanwhoheadedthisinfernalexpedition?"

           "Idon’tknowhim."

           "Butasyouspoketohimyoumusthaveseenhim."

           "Oh,it’sadescriptionyouwant?"

           "Exactlyso."

           "Atall,darkman,withblackmustaches,darkeyes,andtheairofagentleman."

           "That’stheman!"criedd’Artagnan,"againhe,foreverhe!Heismydemon,apparently.Andtheother?"

           "Which?"

           "Theshortone."

           "Oh,hewasnotagentleman,I’llanswerforit;besides,hedidnotwearasword,andtheotherstreatedhimwithsmallconsideration."

           "Somelackey,"murmuredd’Artagnan."Poorwoman,poorwoman,whathavetheydonewithyou?"

           "Youhavepromisedtobesecret,mygoodmonsieur?"saidtheoldman.

           "AndIrenewmypromise.Beeasy,Iamagentleman.Agentlemanhasbuthisword,andIhavegivenyoumine."

           Withaheavyheart,d’Artagnanagainbenthiswaytowardtheferry.SometimeshehopeditcouldnotbeMme.Bonacieux,andthatheshouldfindhernextdayattheLouvre;sometimeshefearedshehadhadanintriguewithanother,who,inajealousfit,hadsurprisedherandcarriedheroff.

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