"What do you mean by 'near the cemetery?'" said Aramis, suspiciously.
"Come," thought the musketeer, "since there is to be a squabble, let us take advantage of it."
"Yes; the cemetery," said Porthos. "Planchet is a very excellent fellow, who makes very excellent preserves; but his house has windows which look out upon the cemetery. And a very melancholy prospect it is! So this morning—"
"This morning?" said Aramis, more and more excited.
D'Artagnan turned his back to them, and walked to the window, where he began to play a march upon one of the panes of glass.
"Yes; this morning, we saw a man buried there."
"Ah! ah!"
"Very depressing, was it not? I should never be able to live in a house where burials can always be seen from it. D'Artagnan, on the contrary, seems to like it very much."
"So D'Artagnan saw it as well?"
"Not simply saw it, he literally never took his eyes off the whole time."