"Your power is infinite, then?" cried Fouquet.
"I have told you so already, and I repeat it," replied Aramis, with glistening eyes and trembling lips.
Fouquet threw himself back in his chair and buried his face in his hands. Aramis looked at him for a moment, as the angel of human destinies might have looked upon a simple mortal being.
"Adieu," he said to him, "sleep undisturbed, and send your letter to La Valliere. To-morrow we shall see each other again."
"Yes, to-morrow," said Fouquet, shaking his hand like a man returning to his senses. "But where shall we see each other?"
"At the king's promenade, if you like."
"Agreed." And they separated.