“I am always afraid of a quarrel when I am expected at any place and when such a quarrel might possibly prevent my reaching it. Besides, let me own something to you. I am anxious to see that young man nearer.”
“And wherefore?”
“Aramis, you will certainly laugh at me, you will say that I am always repeating the same thing, you will call me the most timorous of visionaries; but to whom do you see a resemblance in that young man?”
“In beauty or on the contrary?” asked Aramis, laughing.
“In ugliness, in so far as a man can resemble a woman.”
“Ah! Egad!” cried Aramis, “you set me thinking. No, in truth you are no visionary, my dear friend, and now I think of it—you—yes, i’faith, you’re right—those delicate, yet firm-set lips, those eyes which seem always at the command of the intellect and never of the heart! Yes, it is one of Milady’s bastards!”
“You laugh Aramis.”
“From habit, that is all. I swear to you, I like no better than yourself to meet that viper in my path.”
“Ah! here is De Winter coming,” said Athos.
“Good! one thing now is only awanting and that is, that our grooms should not keep us waiting.”