the desk that he could not see to whom it was addressed.
“You come from the queen?” said Mazarin, looking fixedly at D’Artagnan.
“I! my lord — who told you that?”
“Nobody, but I know it.”
“I regret infinitely to tell you, my lord, that you are mistaken,” replied the Gascon, impudently, firm to the promise he had just made to Anne of Austria.
“I opened the door of the ante-room myself and I saw you enter at the end of the corridor.”
“Because I was shown up the private stairs.”