It was evident that the servants who waited in the antechamber were warned, for as soon as d'Artagnan appeared, before even he had asked if Milady were visible, one of them ran to announce him.
"Show him in," said Milady, in a quick tone, but so piercing that d'Artagnan heard her in the antechamber.
He was introduced.
"I am at home to nobody," said Milady; "observe, to nobody." The servant went out.
D'Artagnan cast an inquiring glance at Milady.

She was pale, and looked fatigued, either from tears or want of sleep.

The number of lights had been intentionally diminished, but the young woman could not conceal the traces of the fever which had devoured her for two days.
D'Artagnan approached her with his usual gallantry.

She then made an extraordinary effort to receive him, but never did a more distressed countenance give the lie to a more amiable smile.
To the questions which d'Artagnan put concerning her health, she replied, "Bad, very bad." "Then," replied he, "my visit is ill-timed; you, no doubt, stand in need of repose, and I will withdraw." "No, no!" said Milady.

"On the contrary, stay, Monsieur d'Artagnan; your agreeable company will divert me." "Oh, oh!" thought d'Artagnan.