“Good.”
“And change Coc into Poc, nard into lin; and instead of Coquenard I shall have Poquelin.”
“‘Tis wonderful,” cried D’Artagnan, astounded. “Go on, my friend, I am listening to you with admiration.”
“This Coquelin sketched my arm on the glass.”
“I beg your pardon—Poquelin.”
“What did I say, then?”
“You said Coquelin.”
“Ah! true. This Poquelin, then, sketched my arm on the glass; but he took his time over it; he kept looking at me a good deal. The fact is, that I must have been looking particularly handsome.”
“‘Does it weary you?’ he asked.
“‘A little,’ I replied, bending a little in my hands, ‘but I could hold out for an hour or so longer.’