"Ah! Porthos," said D'Artagnan, "how very young you are."
"In what way?"
"You are going to Fontainebleau, are you not, where you will find M. Fouquet?"
"Yes."
"Probably in the king's palace."
"Yes," repeated Porthos, with an air full of majesty.
"Well, you will accost him with these words: 'M. Fouquet, I have the honor to inform you that I have just left St. Mandé.'"
"And," said Porthos, with the same majestic mien, "seeing me at Fontainebleau at the king's, M. Fouquet will not be able to tell me I am not speaking the truth."
"My dear Porthos, I was just on the point of opening my lips to make the same remark, but you anticipate me in everything. Oh! Porthos, how fortunately you are gifted; age has not made any impression on you."
"Not overmuch, certainly."