“To enter.”
“Your name?”
“Philippe Goulenoire.”
“Have you brought credentials?”
“Here they are.”
“Pass them through the box.”
“Where is it?”
“To your left.”
Philippe Goulenoire put the letter through the slit of an iron box above which was a loophole.
“The devil!” thought he, “plainly the king comes here, as they say he does; he couldn’t take more precautions at Plessis.”