musketeers, who approached the person of the king, began to
work with an enthusiasm which was something like delirium,
and to serve the customers with a disdainful haste that was
noticed by several.

Planchet put away his money, and made up his accounts,
amidst civilities addressed to his former master. Planchet
had with his equals the short speech and the haughty
familiarity of the rich shopkeeper who serves everybody and
waits for nobody. D'Artagnan observed this habit with a
pleasure which we shall analyze presently. He saw night come
on by degrees, and at length Planchet conducted him to a
chamber on the first story, where, amidst bales and chests,
a table very nicely set out awaited the two guests.

D'Artagnan took advantage of a moment's pause to examine the
countenance of Planchet, whom he had not seen for a year.
The shrewd Planchet had acquired a slight protuberance in
front, but his countenance was not puffed. His keen eye
still played with facility in its deep-sunk orbit; and fat,
which levels all the characteristic saliences of the human
face, had not yet touched either his high cheek-bones, the
sign of cunning and cupidity, or his pointed chin, the sign
of acuteness and perseverance. Planchet reigned with as much
majesty in his dining-room as in his shop. He set before his
master a frugal, but perfectly Parisian repast: roast meat,
cooked at the baker's, with vegetables, salad, and a dessert
borrowed from the shop itself. D'Artagnan was pleased that
the grocer had drawn from behind the fagots a bottle of that
Anjou wine which during all his life had been D'Artagnan's