“The first is that my mistress will never love you.”

“How do you know that?”

“You have cut her to the heart.”

“I? In what can I have offended her — I who ever since I have known her have lived at her feet like a slave? Speak, I beg you!”

“I will never confess that but to the man — who should read to the bottom of my soul!”

D’Artagnan looked at Kitty for the second time. The young girl had freshness and beauty which many duchesses would have purchased with their coronets.

“Kitty,” said he, “I will read to the bottom of your soul when-ever you like; don’t let that disturb you.”