said D’Artagnan, “I know you are a complete man; I know you have been, for a long time, placed above human miseries; but there are jests and jests of a certain kind, which have the power of irritating me beyond expression.”
“May I inquire what kind, my friend?”
“Such as are directed against my friends or against people I respect, my lord!”
Monk made a slight movement, which D’Artagnan perceived. “Eh! and in what,” asked Monk, “in what can the stroke of a pin which scratches another tickle your skin? Answer me that.”
“My lord, I can explain it to you in a single sentence; it concerns you.”
Monk advanced a single step towards D’Artagnan.