“Alone?”

“With M. Fouquet.”

“Very good. But do you happen to know one thing?”

“No, tell it me, and then I shall know.”

“Well, then, I think Aramis is forgetting you.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes; for at Fontainebleau yonder, you must know, they are laughing, dancing, banqueting, and drawing the corks of M.

de Mazarin’s wine in fine style. Are you aware that they have a ballet every evening there?”

“The deuce they have!”

“I assure you that your dear Aramis is forgetting you.”