"Perfectly true, my friend," resumed D'Artagnan; "but the architects were imagining the possibility of your marrying again."
"Ah! that is possible," said Porthos. "And now I have received an explanation how it is that doorways are made too narrow, let us return to the subject of Mouston's fatness. But see how the two things apply to each other. I have always noticed that ideas run parallel. And so, observe this phenomenon, D'Artagnan. I was talking to you of Mouston, who is fat, and it led us on to Madame de Valon—"
"Who was thin?"
"Hum! Is it not marvelous?"
"My dear friend, a savant of my acquaintance, M. Costar, has made the same observation as you have, and he calls the process by some Greek name which I forget."
"What! my remark is not then original?" cried Porthos, astounded. "I thought I was the discoverer."
"My friend, the fact was known before Aristotle's days—that is to say, nearly two thousand years ago."
"Well, well, 'tis no less true," said Porthos, delighted at the idea of having concurred with the sages of antiquity.
"Wonderfully—but suppose we return to Mouston. It seems to me, we have left him fattening under our very eyes."
"Yes, monsieur," said Mouston.