[ D’Artagnan hesitates at that, finding it strange. He frowns, and glances down at his wrist again. He hasn’t really thought about those marks. They’re tiny. He has plenty of scars, many of them more prominent than this. Athos seems troubled, though. ]

She told me that day. I doubt she would have, had I not seen her leg healing itself. When I met her at first, on Lusania, she didn’t say a word. But I knew before we got to camp.

I don’t know why she said that. Unless it was that she didn’t want you to know I’d helped her. Would it have bothered you?

[ A pause. ] Does it bother you?