With this light was extinguished the last irresolution in the heart of d'Artagnan.

He recalled to his mind the details of the first night, and with a beating heart and a brain on fire he re-entered the hotel and flew toward Kitty's chamber.
The poor girl, pale as death and trembling in all her limbs, wished to delay her lover; but Milady, with her ear on the watch, had heard the noise d'Artagnan had made, and opening the door, said, "Come in." All this was of such incredible immodesty, of such monstrous effrontery, that d'Artagnan could scarcely believe what he saw or what he heard.

He imagined himself to be drawn into one of those fantastic intrigues one meets in dreams.

He, however, darted not the less quickly toward Milady, yielding to that magnetic attraction which the loadstone exercises over iron.
As the door closed after them Kitty rushed toward it.

Jealousy, fury, offended pride, all the passions in short that dispute the heart of an outraged woman in love, urged her to make a revelation; but she reflected that she would be totally lost if she confessed having assisted in such a machination, and above all, that d'Artagnan would also be lost to her forever.