"Have you been, or are you, his mistress ?" "Oh, no!" cried Milady, with an accent that admitted no doubt of her truth.

"Never, never!" "I believe you," said Mme.Bonacieux; "but why, then, did you cry out so ?" "Do you not understand ?" said Milady, who had already overcome her agitation and recovered all her presence of mind.
"How can I understand?
I know nothing." "Can you not understand that Monsieur d'Artagnan, being my friend, might take me into his confidence ?" "Truly ?" "Do you not perceive that I know all--your abduction from the little house at St.Germain, his despair, that of his friends, and their useless inquiries up to this moment?
How could I help being astonished when, without having the least expectation of such a thing, I meet you face to face--you, of whom we have so often spoken together, you whom he loves with all his soul, you whom he had taught me to love before I had seen you! Ah, dear Constance, I have found you, then; I see you at last!" And Milady stretched out her arms to Mme.Bonacieux, who, convinced by what she had just said, saw nothing in this woman whom an instant before she had believed her rival but a sincere and devoted friend.
"Oh, pardon me, pardon me!" cried she, sinking upon the shoulders of Milady.

"Pardon me, I love him so much!" These two women held each other for an instant in a close embrace.
Certainly, if Milady's strength had been equal to her hatred, Mme.
Bonacieux would never have left that embrace alive.

But not being able to stifle her, she smiled upon her.
"Oh, you beautiful, good little creature!" said Milady.

"How delighted I am to have found you! Let me look at you!" and while saying these words, she absolutely devoured her by her looks.