But stop! let me look at that sapphire again; the one I mentioned to you had one of its faces scratched by accident." D'Artagnan took off the ring, giving it again to Athos.
Athos started.

"Look," said he, "is it not strange ?" and he pointed out to d'Artagnan the scratch he had remembered.
"But from whom did this ring come to you, Athos ?" "From my mother, who inherited it from her mother.

As I told you, it is an old family jewel." "And you--sold it ?" asked d'Artagnan, hesitatingly.
"No," replied Athos, with a singular smile.

"I gave it away in a night of love, as it has been given to you." D'Artagnan became pensive in his turn; it appeared as if there were abysses in Milady's soul whose depths were dark and unknown.

He took back the ring, but put it in his pocket and not on his finger.
"d'Artagnan," said Athos, taking his hand, "you know I love you; if I had a son I could not love him better.