"Not to speak of the dresses, my dear Porthos."
"Yes, thirty dresses."
"Well, my dear Porthos, tell me M. Moliere's plan."
"Moliere? You call him so, do you? I shall make a point of recollecting his name."
"Yes; or Poquelin, if you prefer that."
"No; I like Moliere best. When I wish to recollect his name, I shall think of Voliere (an aviary); and as I have one at Pierrefonds—"
"Capital!" returned D'Artagnan; "and M. Moliere's plan?"
"'Tis this: instead of pulling me to pieces, as all these rascals do—of making me bend in my back, and double my joints—all of them low and dishonorable practices—"
D'Artagnan made a sign of approbation with his head.