“Oh, oh! why that?” inquired D’Artagnan, unbuckling his belt and thawing the asperity of his smile.
“Because Mademoiselle de la Valliere is deceiving me.”
“She is deceiving you,” said D’Artagnan, not a muscle of whose face had moved; “those are big words. Who makes use of them?”
“Every one.”
“Ah! if every one says so, there must be some truth in it. I begin to believe there is fire when I see smoke. It is ridiculous, perhaps, but it is so.”
“Therefore you do believe me?” exclaimed Bragelonne, quickly.
“I never mix myself up in affairs of that kind; you know that very well.”